Love Is Patient
by photogirl894
Summary: Thorin hates the Elves...but he didn't always. There was one his heart cannot let go of & forget...and the strong bond that formed between them from the very beginning. This is the tale of a love formed between a Dwarf Prince & an Elven Princess before the dragon came...a tale that proves you do not have to be of the same race as someone else to find true love. A Thorin/OC story!
1. Paying Homage

**Hey ya'll! Welcome to my Thorin/OC story! The idea for this story has been on my mind for a loooong time now and I finally just said, "I gotta get it written already!" I also have another story, if you haven't read it already, which is called "Home Is Where the Heart Is". It's a Kili/OC that I've been writing since the beginning of the year. **

**This is a pretty short chapter, but hopefully it's a good start :)**

**Enjoy! :D**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for my OC.**

**.**

"Here they come, my lord."

A member of the Royal Guard under Thror, King Under the Mountain and King of Erebor, the mightiest Dwarf kingdom in Middle-Earth, was addressing the arrival of some special guests they were expecting.

A few day's previous, it had been a special day in Erebor. A Dwarf who had been digging in the mines, just as he always did, had struck something in the mountain. Naturally he had thought it was another diamond or sapphire hidden within the stone, but was surprised to see a stone that was glimmering brighter than a star nestled in a crook in the mountain. It was a stone of great surpassing magnificence; its colors could be seen as a mix of almost every color known to the world that swirled and coiled luminously inside it. The mere sight of it was entrancing; captivating. This was no ordinary stone.

It was the heart of the mountain, or the "Arkenstone", as the Dwarves so named it. It had been presented to King Thror, who named it the "King's Jewel" and took it as a sign that his right to rule was divine.

News of this discovery had spread to the East and to the West. Not long after the Arkenstone was found, Thror received word that a small caravan of Elves from Mirkwood led by the Elvenking, Thranduil, would be coming to pay homage to the Dwarven King for their finding of such an incredible prize. Thror respectfully accepted the offer. Mirkwood was not far from Erebor—at least a day's ride, as the raven flies—so the Dwarves knew it would not be long before the Elves arrived.

As expected, the day came where the coming of the Elven caravan was near. King Thror had called upon his son, Prince Thrain, and grandson, Prince Thorin, to join him in the meeting with the Elves. They were descendants of the line of Durin the Deathless; one of the longest and greatest lines of Dwarven royalty. It seemed fitting to have all three of Durin's heirs present at such a meeting. Thror sat regally on his throne, which adorned the Arkenstone just above his crowned head, with Thrain standing to his left and Thorin to his right.

One of the guards at the front gate of the mountain fortress heard many footsteps approaching and called to the King that Elves were arriving. Thror ordered them to open the gates and let their guests enter. As commanded, the guards opened the stone gates and revealed a small group of tall, slender, royally-dressed Elves that numbered to a total of six members. The Dwarves watched curiously as they began to slowly make their way down the causeway that led from the gate down to the throne.

* * *

**Thorin's POV**

The young Dwarf Prince leaned over close to his grandfather and whispered to him as the Elves made their way to them, "I know we have civil dealings with the Mirkwood Elves, but in all honesty, I did not expect such a gesture as this from them."

"What makes you say that, my lad?" Thror asked him.

Thorin shrugged slightly. "Elves are so different than Dwarves," he replied, still in a hushed voice. "They live out in the open; amongst the trees in the forests. Our people live within the stone walls of the mountains, where it is cold and confined. I didn't think that any Elf would want to come here when it is almost the complete opposite environment than what they are accustomed to. I thought they would find it uncomfortable here."

Thror gave his grandson a pat on the shoulder. "A small sacrifice to make in paying your respects to a fellow monarch in honor of something greater," he answered him. "In time, you will understand, Thorin. You still have much to learn."

Politely, Thorin nodded his head to the King and glanced back, watching the small Elven convoy approach them. Taking up the back of the group were four Elven guards garbed in gray armor. At the head stood a tall Elf clothed in silver robes with long, blonde hair, a sincere expression on his face as well as pale blue eyes that gazed intently at them. Upon his head was a large pointed crown designed with a likeness to tree branches garlanded with leaves all around it. His demeanor was calm, contemplative, yet etched with authority. There was no doubt that this was Thranduil, the Elvenking of Mirkwood.

However, it was the figure standing next to the Elf King that peaked Thorin's curiosity. Only because the remaining member of the group was a bit shorter in height, compared to the rest, and was hooded and cloaked, concealing their face in the shadow. The Dwarf Prince wondered why this particular member kept _their_ identity hidden whereas the others did not.

"Welcome to Erebor, Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm," Thror graciously greeted them, lifting his hands in the air as a welcoming gesture. "We are honored by your presence here."

"The honor is all mine, Thror, King Under the Mountain," Thranduil replied with a small bow of his head, his deep, cool voice speaking the words with such distinguished flow. His eyes wandered up slightly above Thror's head at the sparkling gem on his throne. "That must be the Arkenstone. What a glorious jewel to behold!" he stated. His pale blue eyes looked back to the King, almost beaming in awe. "You must be very pleased with such a find."

Thror gave a nod. "Indeed, I am." Then he straightened himself up. "Allow me to introduce you to my kin; my heirs." He gestured to his left. "This is my son, Prince Thrain."

Thrain, who knew that the guards, at least, were staring at him because of his lack of one eye, gave a quick bow of his head.

Motioning to his right, Thror then added, "And this is my grandson, Prince Thorin."

Like his father, Thorin bowed his head in respect to the Elvenking.

Thranduil then tilted his head and whispered something to the cloaked figure beside him, in Elvish, from what it sounded like. Then the figure lifted their hands to their hood and pulled it back to reveal their face and Thorin's eyes widened immensely at what he saw.

It was an Elven woman.

When her cloak had been removed and she looked to the Dwarven King, long auburn hair with slight waves and very thin streaks of gold cascaded down her shoulders from underneath her hood. Her face was well-rounded; not too thin like the appearance of some she-Elves. She had high cheekbones, pale, flawless skin that seemed to glow in the torchlight and full, light pink lips that were curved upward in a pleasant smile. She was not close enough for Thorin to see what color her eyes were, but he could at least guess that they were perhaps green or hazel. It still puzzled him a little as to why she was shorter than the rest of her company, but he paid that no mind. She was dressed in an elegant forest-green and black Elvish gown that greatly emphasized the graceful curves of her slender body.

To Thorin, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her astonishing beauty was beyond measure; no other creature or being in all of Middle-Earth could compare to the loveliness so blatantly seen in this woman's appearance. She appeared to be young, possibly still in her youth, much like he was, but by Elf standards since they age much differently than Dwarves. In the instant he set eyes on her, the young Prince was smitten with this woman. Never before had he become taken with a female of any race so quickly. It surprised him that this happened with a woman of the Elven race. There was nothing wrong with them; he had just always assumed that he would only ever find himself attracted to Dwarf women. But it seemed that was not to be so, not since he had seen the she-elf reveal herself from underneath her hood.

Her gaze suddenly met his and he realized that he was staring at her. He wanted to turn away, embarrassed, but failed to do so as he noticed her smiling at him warmly. He caught his breath and his heart about stopped at the sight and then it began to race, pounding hard against the inside of his chest, threatening to burst forth. However, he kept a calm, noble façade as he smiled back at her, despite the butterflies he could feel fluttering about in his stomach. He had never experienced such elation before in his life, especially upon merely looking at another female.

The Elvenking gestured to the young Elf-woman and introduced her to Thror as well as Thrain and Thorin. "This is Lancaeriel, Princess of Mirkwood. She is my niece; the daughter of my brother, Galead. He and his wife were lost many a year ago, leaving their young daughter in my care. I allowed her to accompany me here at her own request."

Thror eyed the Princess, intrigued by her. "My, my, you are a lovely one!" he exclaimed with great enthusiasm. "Your beauty may yet rival that of the Arkenstone, my dear."

Lancaeriel just blushed. "You flatter me, your Highness. I thank you," she answered, the high lilt in her voice divine and smooth like pure silk as she spoke. Thorin couldn't help but sigh quietly at hearing such a sweet sound that sounded like music to his ears in just a simple response.

Turning back to Thranduil, Thror asked him, "For how long do you wish to stay in Erebor, Elvenking?"

"It is our wish to stay for no less than a month, if you will permit it," Thranduil answered. "My niece and I would like to see as much of your fortress city as we can."

The Dwarf King stood up from his throne and descended down the stone steps in front of the Elf. "So be it, then," he said proudly. "You and your convoy shall be our honored guests for a month's time and I promise you that you will see the many wonders of our city that will be to your liking. That, I can assure you."

Gratefully, both Thranduil and Lancaeriel gave a bow of their heads to Thror.

"My attendants will show you to our guest quarters where you will stay," Thror then said to them. "My son and grandson and I have other matters we must attend to, but we shall send for you when our business is through. And we will have a great feast in honor of your safe arrival this evening!"

"We thank you graciously, King Thror," said Thranduil as they were led away by a couple of Dwarf guards.

They passed in front of Thorin and he caught Lancaeriel's eyes as she walked by him. Once again, she gave him a friendly smile and continued to look back at him until she could no longer twist her neck any further. The young Prince watched her until they rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

As he followed his father and grandfather out of the throne room, there was only one question that kept bouncing around like mad in his head:

_"Mahal above, who is that woman?"_

All he knew of her already was that she was a Princess and her name was Lancaeriel; a lovely name for such a lovely Elf. But he wanted to know more; so much more about her…and he determined then and there that, in the month that she would be spending in Erebor, he was going to make that happen. He was going to learn more about the Elven Princess.

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**Hopefully that was a good start to a story :)**

**I'll try and update this story as much as I can...I'm currently taking online classes, working longer hours and writing another fanfic at the same time...I'll probably alternate between the two, depending on which one I'm in the mood to work on.**

**Leave a review or PM me with your thoughts! :D They are much appreciated!**

**PS: The cover image? I made that! And I'm really quite proud of it :) Hope you all like it, too!**


	2. A Peculiar Meeting

**I'm so happy with the positive responses this story has gotten so far! Thank you all so much :)**

**There is a brief song used in here that is from "The Two Towers", I'm sure you'll recognize it! Here's a link to it for you to listen to! (the actual song used ends at 1:50) ( watch?v=J9AOTMNoFKY)**

**This will be a nice little chapter for you all...do enjoy it, won't you? :)**

**.**

The time spent attending to his remaining royal duties for the day seemed to pass by at an agonizingly slow pace for Thorin. He found himself losing his focus and concentration during his weapons training. His mind was wandering aimlessly. All he could think about was the beautiful Elven Princess.

Her face and her smile kept flashing in his mind, it was almost maddening. Why was this happening? He had only seen her briefly and hadn't even spoken a word to her, yet all he wanted was to see her again and know more about her. He had seen many a lovely woman among Dwarves and a few as well among Elves, so what was it that made her any different? No female had ever bewitched him like this. He was sure to go mad if he didn't see her again and soon.

Once he was through with his royal duties, Thorin thought that he would return to his bedchamber for a brief time, perhaps until the feast that evening. He would not seek out Lancaeriel, despite how much he wanted to. He assumed that, after their travel, she would be weary and want to rest a bit in the guest chambers. Fortunately, he knew that he would see her at the feast, so his mind could be a little at ease.

However, he was making his way through a corridor leading down to where the throne sat when he suddenly saw her. She was walking past the throne of Thror and continuing down the causeway towards the front gate. Thorin decided to follow her and see what she was up to. This would be the perfect opportunity to possibly get her alone and talk to her.

Quietly, he went after her, keeping a good distance behind her so she could not see him nor hear him.

_"Wait, am I __really__ doing this…?"_ he suddenly questioned himself. _"I'm secretly following a lady like a little child…I can't believe this!"_

While he was scolding himself, he still continued to follow after Lancaeriel, watching as she seemed to flow over the grass as she walked with such poise and grace. She went outside the gate and made a turn, heading for the small grove of trees just beside the gates. If it were not for her gleaming head of auburn hair seamed with gold, she could've almost blended in with the trees in her dark green dress. The tips of her fingers trailed gently along the bark of each tree trunk she passed and her pace began to slow. Thorin took up hiding behind one of the trees and watched her carefully around the corner.

Lancaeriel's gaze wandered upward, admiring the tops of the trees and the sky above her. Her head lowered, she opened her mouth and just then, she began to sing in the most enchanting voice Thorin had ever heard. The tune she was singing was in the Elvish tongue. While he couldn't interpret what was being said, he could still understand what she was speaking literally. Her voice carried softly in the light breeze as she sang,

_Uich gwennen na 'wanath ah na dhín. _

_An uich gwennen na ringyrn ambar hen. _

_Boe naid bain gwannathar,_

_Boe cuil ban firitha._

_Boe naer gwannathach_

Thorin felt a warm feeling of peace inside from listening to her. Her song and her voice calmed him immensely. It was such a refreshing feeling and he was almost saddened when she ceased singing.

It was then he figured that it was now a good time to step forward and say something to her before she started walking again. So, Thorin straightened up, clasped his hands behind his back and stepped out from behind the tree.

"That song was very stunning," he finally said to her.

The Elven Princess whipped around and let out a startled gasp. "Prince Thorin!" she cried out as her gaze found him, making him chuckle a little. "I had no idea you were near." Her eyes were growing big in shock but then their wideness began to lessen as she realized who it was that had startled her. Then she straightened herself up and bowed her head low as she curtsied to him. "It is an honor to be in your presence," she said humbly.

Thorin could feel all the nervousness he had felt earlier starting to drain away as he approached her. "On the contrary," he said as he pulled her up, "there is more honor to be found in the presence of a lovely maiden such as you than a Prince like me." He gave her a witty smile.

Once again, Lancaeriel blushed as she looked to him and grinned back. It was then that Thorin was close enough to her to where he could determine her eye-color. As he gazed at them, he noticed that they were a lovely hazel shade that stood out greatly next to the redness of her hair.

"You and your family are far too kind to me," she replied to Thorin's gentlemanly remark. Then she looked Thorin over quickly and added without hesitating, "And, I must say, you are a very majestic-looking Prince yourself."

Thorin looked at her inquisitively, a bit surprised at her straightforwardness. Yet he found he rather liked it. "You think I look majestic?" he asked her, curious to her response or reaction.

She simply grinned and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't see any reason why I should _not_ think that. You have that demeanor about you," was her answer. Her grin spread across her face in a kind appearance as she then stated, "Along with that, I can see that you are strong of body, mind and heart. Those are very noble qualities for a Prince to have."

"You gather all that just from looking upon me?"

"You forget: I _am_ an Elf. We are able to look past the exterior of other beings and see into their minds and their hearts. We see others as they truly are."

"I must say I am impressed." Thorin tried to figure out what to say or ask next in order to keep the conversation going. Then he asked the only question he could think of, even though he knew the answer, "What is your name? I'm afraid I've forgotten." He began to inwardly curse at himself for asking such a dull question and even lying about it, too. He thought it was good enough to keep up the conversation, but then he figured perhaps he just wanted to hear her name be said out loud again.

To his slight embarrassment, though, she could see through his little subtle trick and was smirking at him. "You know very well what my name is…," she retorted, "but…because of your kind words from before, I will humor you." She let out a tiny chuckle. "My name is Lancaeriel."

"Lancaeriel…," Thorin repeated, enjoying the feel of her name rolling off his tongue. It was so good to hear her say it, but then it was even more amazing to hear himself say it.

"Now, I believe I've forgotten _your_ name…perhaps you should remind me again," Lancaeriel said back with another playful smirk and winking at him.

He raised his eyebrows at her, a little surprised at her unexpected teasing. There seemed to be a hint of interest in her tone of voice. He could feel the corners of his mouth slowly twitching upwards. Was she actually playing coy with him?

Feeling pleased that she was going along with his trick, he just let his mouth curve all the way into a smile and responded, "My name is Thorin."

Then she did the same thing he had done: she repeated his name as if she enjoyed hearing it coming out of her mouth, which intrigued him.

Thorin then said to Lancaeriel, "Your uncle said that he let you come at your own request. Why did you want to come here?"

"I'm very adventurous," she answered. Her expression and her voice began to grow lively and almost dream-like as if she were drifting to another world. "I have always wanted to see more of Middle-Earth outside of Mirkwood. There is so much out there to see! Since my uncle is the King of the Greenwood, he has the opportunity to travel the land often, whether it's for political affairs or just for the luxury of it. He knows of my great want for adventure, so he has been kind enough to let me accompany him on his many travels."

The Princess looked to the Prince with bright fascination in her eyes. "Erebor is one of the few places I have been _longing_ to see for so long!" she exclaimed.

"Really? Why is that?"

"It's one of the greatest kingdoms in Middle-Earth and it's very close to my home. It's a Dwarven realm and I have never seen any of them. I have always wanted to see the splendor of the Lonely Mountain, the architecture of the Dwarves…it all just seemed so fascinating to me."

Lancaeriel met Thorin's gaze and found him staring at her, looking a bit baffled.

"What?" she asked, wondering why he was looking at her that way.

He shook his head and replied, "I'm sorry, it's just…I have never met an Elf who willingly wanted to visit a Dwarf realm. You are the first and I almost find it hard to believe."

She chuckled. "Well, if you have not yet noticed, I am not like most Elves."

"I have noticed, indeed," said Thorin. "I did observe that you are smaller in height than normal Elves, which is rather peculiar for your kind." At that moment, he realized, now that he was standing nearer to her than back in the throne room, that she was actually at eye-level with him. She was certainly _much_ shorter than a typical Elf.

Suddenly, Lancaeriel's expression turned grim and hard, startling Thorin. "Are you implying that you think I'm a half-breed?" she inquired harshly.

Now he was worried. The sudden change in her attitude made him think he really did something wrong, even though he had no idea what he could've said incorrectly in his one statement. He stammered defensively, "N—no, no, I didn't mean—"

"Do not lie to me. You were thinking it; I could hear it in your voice. I am _not_ a half-breed!" Then Lancaeriel whirled around and ran away from Thorin.

He was completely stunned. _"Oh, no, what I did I just do?"_ he thought despondently. He was even more worried now that she had suddenly grown bitter with him. Only a few minutes into their conversation and he had already messed things up. This never happened!

_"Typical…,"_ Thorin complained in his head.

Quickly, he called out for the Elf Princess and started to run after her, following her through the trees. Unfortunately, he lost her pretty fast. He rounded a corner and found she had disappeared.

Now angry at himself, Thorin began muttering curses in Khuzdul under his breath, running his hands through his long black hair, frustrated. Normally, he was always careful and respectful towards women so as to not accidentally offend them. Then, the one time he finds a woman he's actually developing a possible interest in and had his eyes on, he somehow says something wrong and ruins it all.

"You fool!" he quietly exclaimed, now returning to the common tongue. "Why did you have to go and say something about her height? Clearly, she's sensitive about that…." He groaned loudly, leaned back against a tree and started slamming the palm of his hand repeatedly against his forehead. "_Fool_!" he cried out again.

Just then, he heard nearby the low sound of a giggle; a feminine one.

Puzzled, Thorin looked up and started looking all around him to find the source of the sound. It didn't take long before he saw a head of red, gold-streaked hair and bright, hazel eyes peering out at him mischievously from behind the tree had actually been leaning against. Lancaeriel leaned out a little further to reveal her teasing grin.

"You should see the look you have on your face!" she exclaimed as she stepped out, covering her mouth with her hand as she was still chuckling at him.

Thorin just stared at her, very confused.

Her giggling subsided and she said to reassure him, "I am only jesting with you, Prince! I am not really angry with you. I just thought I'd have a laugh and tease you a little." Then she laughed gaily again.

Thorin couldn't help but laugh himself along with her, relieved that it had all been an act and she wasn't actually mad with him.

"I really am not a half-breed. I am a full Elf; both my mother and father were," she explained. "I was just…born different. Whatever the reason for that is: Aulë only knows."

"Aulë?" he asked.

"You would know him as Mahal."

Having that clarification, he nodded.

"I have never thought much about my short stature. It has never bothered me and I am perfectly content with it."

"If it's any consolation, I am considered tall for a Dwarf. And you are at the same height as me. It would seem we were both born differently from the norm of our races."

"So it would seem, indeed."

On impulse, Thorin stepped closer to Lancaeriel and took her hand in his. She slightly flinched, looked down and let out an almost inaudible gasp at his sudden touch. To her surprise, his hand did not feel as rough as she had thought. His hold on hers was tight yet very gentle. She glanced back up at Thorin's handsome face. She saw his deep, sea-blue eyes for the first time and was amazed at the admiration directed towards her that she could see in them. There was a faint, unfamiliar flutter that rose up in her stomach and chest.

Both of them kept their gaze locked as Thorin lifted Lancaeriel's hand up to his lips and pressed them firmly against her soft, smooth skin, letting them linger there  
for a moment. It was a simple, polite gesture, yet they both could feel heat rising in their cheeks from it.

Thorin brought his lips back, but still kept a hold on her hand, from which she didn't try to pull away. "You are unlike any Elf woman I have met," he said, gently squeezing her hand. "You are just so full of life and I admire that."

Lancaeriel grasped his hand tightly back. "And you are very kind and compassionate, more so than any Dwarves I have known. _I_ admire _that_ in you." She gave him a friendly smile which he returned.

"I am honored that you will be staying here for a time, Princess," he said to her.

"As am I," she replied. "And please, call me 'Lancaeriel'. I am certain that we will become good friends, so there is no need for titles."

"I will…on one condition."

She looked at him curiously.

"You must address me as 'Thorin'." Now it was his turn to grin and wink at her.

She simply grinned back and gave a nod of her head.

He looked back in the direction of the gates. "You said you wished to see the splendor of the mountain and the architecture of the Dwarves," he pointed out. Then he lifted his arm and offered it out to her. "Would you like to begin…Lancaeriel?" he inquired with a gleam in his eye.

She beamed at him gladly and answered as she accepted his gentlemanly offer and slipped her arm through his, "I would love to…Thorin."

With that, the Dwarf Prince and the Elf Princess returned arm-in-arm to the gates of the Lonely Mountain, both of them unaware of the observing eyes of the Elvenking watching them from above on another balcony. His gaze followed them as they approached the gate together and his grip on the balcony railing tightened uneasily once they disappeared from his view.

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***Giddy giggle* Can you tell I've been wanting to write this for a while now? xD haha!**

**Leave a review or send a PM my way with your thoughts, as per usual! :)**


	3. The Royal Library

**Goodness, I've been so busy with my other Hobbit story lately and this one has just been calling to me, "Update me! Update me!" So I finally gave in to its demands! xP Besides, I've been starting to miss young Thorin ;)**

**I do hope you all enjoy this! :)**

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"Where would you like to start your tour?" Thorin asked Lancaeriel once they were back inside the mountain.

She tilted her head and the corners of her lips slowly sneaked upwards. "I can choose?" she asked.

He bowed his head. "Of course," he replied, "you are the one who wishes to see our great city. You may choose where you want to start, doesn't matter where in the mountain it is, and then we will go from there."

Lancaeriel's eyes rolled to the ceiling and she placed a hand on her chin, contemplating where she wanted to go first. She wanted to think of a room that Erebor was bound to have, like many other cities.

Then she thought of a good one. "Do you have a library?" she asked Thorin.

The Dwarf Prince grinned. "Perhaps," he answered modestly. Then he offered his arm to her again and said, "Come with me and I will show you."

Pleased, the Elf Princess slipped her arm through his and they started off down a long corridor.

"Do you enjoy reading?" Thorin asked.

Lancaeriel nodded. "I do, very much. That's part of how I became as adventurous as I am: I would read so many incredible things in books from my uncle's library and it amazed me all the things that are out there and that I could learn. There are many fascinating stories and tales I have come across, as well."

"Such as?"

"Well, my favorite one would have to be the story of Beren and Lúthien Tinúviel."

"Ah, yes, I am familiar with that one; a rather lovely tale."

"Indeed, it is. It's a beautiful story that proves you don't have to be of the same race as someone else to find true love."

"And that there is no obstacle great enough to stand in the way or destroy it."

"Exactly."

Thorin caught her gaze as they kept walking and he couldn't help but notice a certain gleam in her eye. It seemed as though the conversation was fascinating her. Was it because they were talking about the concept of love or was it the story?

But she kept looking back at him with that same look in her eyes and he tilted his head inquiringly, wondering if it wasn't even either of those things that were fascinating her.

"What?" he asked.

She grinned and looked away. "Nothing," she replied. "I just find it a little interesting when a man talks about love the way you did just now." Then she glanced back at him and asked him, "Have you ever been in love, Thorin?"

He cleared his throat nervously. _"Of all the questions she could've asked me…,"_ he thought to himself. Then he responded with, "That's quite a question to be asking someone you've just barely met."

Lancaeriel shrugged. "I apologize. When I wish to get to know someone, I can be a bit too curious. We were talking about that story and I just—"

"No, it's all right, I understand." Thorin gave her a kind smile to show her it was all right. "I don't mind. And in answer to what you asked: no, I have never been in love."

"Neither have I."

"I do hope to be someday."

She squeezed his arm gently with her arm that was laced through his and said back nicely, "I do, too."

When she smiled at him, Thorin felt his heart thump hard against his chest at the sight of it. Her smile only made her glow even more and it was a wonder he could keep himself standing. While keeping his composure, he gave her a half-smile back.

Little did he know was that the same thing happened to Lancaeriel when _he_ smiled at her: her heart about burst from within her bosom. He had the sweetest smile she had ever seen on a man, even if it was only a partial one.

She thought in her head, _"He's quite handsome…and that smile of his only enhances his good looks!"_

Thorin softly patted her hand on his arm with his free hand and said, "Come on, let's get down to the library. I think you will be very pleased with it."

* * *

The Dwarf Prince and the Elven Princess made their way through the winding halls and corridors in the mountain until they finally reached the library.

Lancaeriel was automatically impressed with the structure of the tall doors. They were finely crafted of dark marble with handles, imprinted with the royal seal of King Thror, and framework made of gold, carved with Dwarven runes in the marble works. She only knew a couple of the runes, so she was unable to depict what all that was carved into the doors. However, she did understand enough to deduce the runes above the door that read _"The Royal Library"_.

The guards standing in the doorways acknowledged their Prince and allowed him and the Princess to enter. Thorin led her through the doors and Lancaeriel gasped, "Oh, my!" in amazement.

There were rows upon rows of smooth, polished bookshelves, carved straight out from the stone of the mountain, lining down the room as far as they eye could see and beyond with aisles separating them. Like the doors, there were multiple runes engraved into the shelves in gold as well as other intricate drawings and designs. Placed in the shelves, of course, were all sorts of leather-bound books of all shapes, sizes and colors.

Spread out on the floor was small, beautiful mosaics of many different Dwarven symbols and drawings. Along the walls were paintings of Dwarves in battle, the Lonely Mountain, Durin's Day and Durin the Deathless along with others further down the walls that couldn't yet be seen. The entire room was lit up by the light of some torches as well as a few windows letting in a little natural light.

Then, all around the large room, were wooden tables and desks and at each one there was, at least, a Dwarf or two sitting down, either reading, writing or conversing with one another. Then there were some who were browsing the shelves, scrolling through the different books, or wandering up and down the aisles.

Many of them noticed their Prince enter the room and stopped what they were doing, bowing their heads in respect.

Thorin held up a hand politely and said to them, "As you were, my fellow Dwarves."

They all obeyed and returned to their current tasks.

"Thorin, my lad!" cried out a voice.

Lancaeriel looked and noticed an older-looking Dwarf coming up the aisle towards them. He had long, dark gray hair that was partly pulled back and he wore red and rust-colored robes. In regards to his height, he appeared shorter than some of the other Dwarves; he certainly was shorter than she and Thorin. He was grinning widely from ear to ear and was holding his arms out to his sides in welcome. He really seemed like quite a jolly fellow.

"Balin!" Thorin exclaimed as he grinned and embraced his friend. "How do you fare today?"

Balin gave him a pat on the shoulder and answered, "Just chipper! It would take a lot to bring this old Dwarf down." His eyes drifted over to Lancaeriel and they grew wider in wonder. "And who is this lovely maiden?" he asked out loud.

Gesturing to her, Thorin said, "This is Princess Lancaeriel of Mirkwood. She came with the Elven caravan this morning." Then he turned to the Princess and motioned to his friend. "And this is Balin, my councilor and one of my most trusted friends."

Lancaeriel graciously curtsied as Balin gave her a bow.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess."

"The pleasure is all mine, Master Balin."

He reached out with both hands and took one of hers in them, gave her a very friendly smile and said with a bright twinkle in his eye, "Welcome to Erebor."

"Thank you very much! I am glad to be here."

"I take it Thorin here is giving you a tour of the mountain?"

She nodded. "Indeed, he has been very kind to me. He offered to show me around, I did not even have to ask it of him."

Balin glanced at Thorin and raised his eyebrows. "Did he now…?" he inquired.

They both noticed the Prince look down shyly and he just shrugged.

Lancaeriel just chuckled. "I thought it was quite gentlemanly of him," she said to Balin.

He snickered, too. "Well, my dear, is there anything I can do for you; anything in particular you would like to see in here?"

"Thank you, Balin, but I think I would just like to browse a little on my own, if that's all right."

He gave a compliant nod.

She turned back to Thorin. "May I?" she asked, looking at him for permission.

"Please do," he answered, gesturing out in front of him.

After giving him a grateful smile, Lancaeriel practically glided over to the nearest shelf and pulled out a thin, red leather book and started looking through it, her eyes large with enthusiasm.

Thorin felt his lips curving upwards as he watched her flipping through the first few pages of the book in her hands, put it back on the shelf and then pulled out a larger brown one to look at. She seemed so charmed with what she was seeing and reading in those books; she looked excited to be there. He was pleased to see her that way. It kept the lovely smile that he found himself captivated by on her face. It was his goal to keep her pleased while showing her the city and everything inside it.

"She's a real beauty, that one," stated Balin.

"Indeed, she is," Thorin replied, still watching her.

Balin looked up and saw Thorin gazing at the Princess, his eyes distant as if lost in another world, and the older Dwarf chuckled to himself. "Thorin?"

"Hmm?"

"You're staring at her, laddie."

Thorin blinked, coming back to his senses, and cleared his throat loudly, blushing once again and feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Smitten, are we, with the Princess?" Balin asked, raising his eyebrows and giving him a teasing look. He knew that the young Dwarf didn't mind his witty remarks.

Once again, Thorin looked away bashfully. "Yes," he simply answered, turning a light shade of red.

"That was kind of you to offer her a tour of the mountain."

"She told me she's always longed to see Erebor, so I thought it would be something she'd enjoy."

Balin patted Thorin again on his arm. "Well done, lad." He looked back to Lancaeriel. "Isn't she a little…short for an Elf?"

"She said she was born that way. There is only Elvish blood in her."

Understanding, Balin nodded. "She seems very cheerful; full of life," he said, glancing back in her direction. Then he looked back up at Thorin. "From what I hear, she's going to be here for a month's time, lad. Do you intend to make the most of it?"

Thorin nodded his head. "I certainly want to," he replied, "and I'm going to need you to do something for me."

Lancaeriel was scanning through a larger book full of maps of Middle-Earth when she glanced over and noticed Thorin whispering something in Balin's ear and they both were grinning. Then the older Dwarf gave the Prince a nod, walked away from him down the center aisle and disappeared from view. Naturally, the Princess wondered what it was the two male Dwarves had been talking about. She placed the book she held in her hands back in its proper place and then strode over to Thorin.

"What was that all about?" she politely asked him, nodding in the direction Balin had just gone.

Innocently, he said in reply, "I simply asked him to find a certain book for me, since he knows this library better than I do."

A few moments later, Balin returned with a regular-sized book in his hand that was bound in forest green leather with gold designs and writing on the cover. "Here you are, Thorin," he said, handing the book to the Prince.

Thorin gave a grateful bow of his head to his friend and then suddenly held out the book towards Lancaeriel. "I had Balin find this for you," he told her.

"What is it?" she asked curiously as she carefully took the book from him.

When the only response he gave was a silent one, Lancaeriel looked down at the book in her hands and her head jerked slightly back in surprise.

The writing on the cover was in Elvish script, which she didn't really expect. Once she got past that fact, she read the title on the leather and a stunned smile spread across her face.

Her head shot up and she cried out, excited, "My stars! This is _'The Tale of Beren and Lúthien'_!"

Thorin smirked and chuckled at her eagerness, glad about her reaction. Then he explained to her, "You said you loved that story, I knew we had it in here somewhere and I thought this would give you something to help occupy some of your time during your stay here."

Lancaeriel was flattered by this generous gesture from Thorin. "Thank you so much!" she said to him, flipping through and admiring the pages. "Oh, I have not read this in so long."

"Neither have I."

Just then, at Thorin's reply, Lancaeriel got an idea; a positively _mad_ idea, she thought, but one that she thought was worth a try.

She looked up at Thorin inquisitively. "You have this story in Elvish…I assume you have other copies of it in other languages."

"Aye, we have it translated in Dwarf runes and in Westron, or the Common Speech."

Satisfied, the Princess turned then to Balin and held the book back out to him. "Balin, I know you just brought me this, but could you perhaps bring me the Westron copy of this tale, please?" she politely asked.

"Certainly, my lady. One moment," he said back before taking the book and walking away.

Lancaeriel turned back to Thorin who was gaping at her, confused and almost a little disappointed in her strange request.

But then she made it clear to him. A little hesitantly, she said, "It has been many a year since either of us has read that story, so I thought that perhaps, if you wanted…we could read it together."

Thorin was taken aback by her proposition, but in a good way. He was surprised to hear that she wanted to read the story with _him_ instead of on her own. And she didn't even hesitate to suggest it; she just came right out with it. But he liked that. It made him happy deep down that she wanted to spend more time with him, even though they had just barely met. Was it possible that she was developing an interest in him?

However, right as that question came to his mind, he thought, _"No, there's no way that a lovely maiden like her could ever be interested in someone like me. More likely, she's just being polite and making a friendly suggestion."_

But still, Thorin was still touched by Lancaeriel's offer and said back to her, "I think that's a wonderful idea! How soon would you like to begin?"

"I care not when we start. I think you should decide," she answered. "It is a book from _your_ library, after all."

Content with that answer, Thorin then said, "What say you we visit one or two more areas of the mountain and then we will start the story together?"

Lancaeriel smiled at him widely. "That sounds perfect."

"Then you both had best be off, then!" cried Balin, smirking and waving his arms forward to shoo them out after giving Lancaeriel the copy she requested.

"Thank you, Balin," said Thorin, grasping his shoulder, "and I shall see you at the banquet tonight."

"Indeed, you will!"

Then Lancaeriel approached him. "It was wonderful to meet you, Master Balin, and thank you."

"The feeling is mutual, Princess," he responded with another friendly grin.

After that, Thorin held open the door for Lancaeriel as she walked out of the library, clutching the book to her chest. He gave Balin an enthusiastic look and then walked through the door after the Elf Princess.

_"I have a pretty good feeling about those two…!"_ Balin thought as he watched them go, chuckling heartily to himself.

.

**So...? ;D**

**The story of Beren and Lúthien is my absolute favorite story from "The Silmarillion" and I thought it would be perfect for these two :) Plus, it gives me an excuse to get the book out again :)**

**Leave a review or PM me with your thoughts! I always love hearing from you all :D**


	4. Lessons in History and Combat

**Gosh, this chapter took a lot of work, for some reason! xD**

**This story has already reached over 1,000 views! Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, you all are wonderful and I appreciate your support! :)**

**Enjoy! :)**

**.**

Thorin had an idea of what to show Lancaeriel next on their tour, and luckily it wasn't too far from the library. He led her once again through a series of corridors and up a couple flights of stairs until they came a smaller, empty hallway that was lit by a few torches along the walls. What could be seen on the walls were the square-shaped outlines of portraits.

"Here is something I thought you'd like to see."

He pulled her down the hall a little ways and then stopped her to face a large painting on the wall. It was of a great Dwarf, regal and incredible in appearance, who stood proud with a large, fierce battle axe resting on his shoulder. He was garbed in gold armor from head to toe with a great helmet upon his head and above it were seven stars. He stood upon a hill, looking bold and heroic.

"Amazing!" Lancaeriel quietly exclaimed as she looked up at the painting. The inscription at the bottom was, naturally, in runes and she still couldn't quite read it. She looked over to Thorin timidly, the look on her face telling him that she didn't know who it was.

"This is Durin the Deathless," Thorin told her. "Our forefather; a great ancestor to all of Dwarf-kind."

"Ah, I see," Lancaeriel replied as she glanced back at the portrait. "I have heard of him."

"What do you know about him?"

Lancaeriel thought about it for a moment and answered, "Not very much…only that he is revered by all Dwarves, he is the founder of Durin's Folk and that there is a day called Durin's Day in his honor."

Thorin gave a comprehensive nod. "Well, then, would you like for me to give you a little historical lesson about him?"

"By all means," said Lancaeriel welcomingly.

He stole a quick glance at the portrait and began, "Durin the Deathless was the eldest of the Seven Fathers who were created by Mahal in the beginning of time and put under a deep slumber until the arising of the Elves took place. Each of them were the founders of the great houses or clans of the Dwarves: the Longbeards, which Durin was the founder of, the Broadbeams, Firebeards, Ironfists, Stiffbeards, Blacklocks and Stonefoots.

"Durin, when he awoke from his slumber, travelled the world until he came upon Mirromere, or 'Kheled-zâram', as it is known by amongst our race, which is a lake that lies in a vale just east of Moria. It is said that when Durin looked at his reflection in the water, he saw seven stars shining above his head forming a crown. He reached into the water and pulled them out and they formed a great helmet; the one he is wearing in this painting. Thus, those stars that are hovering above his head became part of his sigil.

"This pleased him and he decided he wanted to establish his kingdom in the land nearest the lake in the Misty Mountains. He built his kingdom and named it Khazad-dûm, which would become known as Moria later on in time. It became one of the greatest Dwarf kingdoms in all the history of Middle-Earth."

Lancaeriel was completely enthralled by Thorin's story. She could feel her natural thirst for knowledge growing and rising inside her as she listened to him. She loved to learn; she loved to learn about the different cultures in the world and of the history of Middle-Earth. Hearing the story of Durin was exciting for her and she enjoyed listening to it.

"That is fascinating!" she cried out, grinning widely. Then her expression changed to a little more serious. "But I do have a couple questions: why is he called Durin the Deathless and what exactly is Durin's Day?"

"Excellent questions," said Thorin. "He was called 'Deathless' because it was believed that Durin could not die, but simply fall asleep and reincarnate his own line. He did live longer than any Dwarf, but eventually he actually did die. The day he passed from this world is Durin's Day, which is the start of our new year; when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together. The reason that is, is because he died at the beginning of winter and his death was witnessed by both the sun and the moon."

Not only was the Princess still fascinated by the history that the Prince was telling her, but she was also very impressed with his undeniable understanding and knowledge of it. He relayed the story flawlessly, as if he'd memorized every piece of information. Clearly, he was quite intelligent, had been well-educated and cared much for the history of his people. That was evident from the conviction she could hear in his deep voice as he spoke of his ancestor. She wanted to hear him continue speaking like that.

Her gaze drifted to the other paintings that were next to the one of Durin and she observed that there were three of them. They were all dressed in royal robes and furs and their heads were adorned with crowns.

Seeing her looking at the other portraits, Thorin told her, "These are all the Kings Under the Mountain up until the present day. There were only two Kings before my grandfather."

Lancaeriel looked back to him. "What can you tell me about _them_?" she inquired.

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "You just want me to keep talking, don't you?" he asked, snickering at her.

She laughed. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "I am quite enthralled by this lesson you seem to be giving. I simply wish for you to continue teaching me."

"As you wish," he said in reply, glancing up at the first painting, ready to tell her about the former Kings.

"The very first King of Erebor was Thrain I. His father, Nain I, had been the last ruler of Khazad-dûm and was killed by the Balrog that slumbered deep in the darkness there. After his death, Thrain and the remainder of Durin's Folk fled the Misty Mountains and made their way across the land until they found the Lonely Mountain and the kingdom was established under his rule. Thrain was King for one-hundred and ninety-one years."

"It sounds like he was a good King for leading his people all that way."

"Indeed." Thorin then gestured to the second portrait. "After his reign was over, his son, Thorin I; my namesake, succeeded him. He only ruled the mountain for twenty years."

"Why did he have such a short reign?"

"He decided to abandon Erebor in search of greater riches in the Grey Mountains. He remained King of Durin's Folk, but this kingdom was left empty and kingless for three-hundred and eighty years. In that span of time, four generations of Durin's line passed, leading as Kings of Durin's Folk in the Grey Mountains until the death of Dain I, my great-grandfather."

He moved down to the last portrait and a he glanced at it with admiration. "Then, following my great-grandfather's death, Thror, my grandfather, became King. He returned here and refounded Erebor. He has ruled for nearly two-hundred years and the kingdom has been prosperous ever since."

"How incredible!" Lancaeriel gasped in awe.

"And someday there will be a portrait of my father placed up here when he is King."

"Then, one day, there shall be one of _you_ that will follow next to his."

"Yes, but I still have many years until that happens." Thorin sighed proudly. "I only hope that someday I can be as great a King as my grandfather."

She laid a hand on his shoulder lightly. When he turned to look at her, he met her soft, pleasant gaze. "You will be," she said to him confidently.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked.

She simply smiled. "I just have a good, strong feeling that you _will_ be a great King when the time comes."

Then she let her hand gently slide down his arm until she reached his hand and she gave it a quick, friendly squeeze and then let go.

"Thank you, Thorin," she said graciously, "for that history lesson of your lineage. I enjoyed it immensely."

"It was my pleasure," he replied, bowing his head. "I am glad you enjoyed it."

Lancaeriel stole one more look at the painting of Durin and said, "I believe Durin would be very proud to see how far his line has come…and how far it _will_ go in the future."

She smiled kindly at him and he did the same to her.

Thorin noticed that, in the light of the torches, the streaks of gold in Lancaeriel's hair glimmered brightly, standing out amongst the red. To him, it was a pretty sight that only added to her overall radiance.

Lancaeriel thought that his deep, sapphire blue eyes gleamed even more in the firelight. While the color in his eyes was already bright, they shone even more now than ever.

The two young people just stood there and stared at each other, neither of them saying a word. They couldn't figure out what was happening…only that they were just lost in each other's gaze for a moment.

It was brief, however, until Lancaeriel lowered her gaze timidly and broke their silence by asking, "So, what are you going to show me next?"

Thorin's senses returned and he thought about it for a moment and answered, "There's someone else I'd like you to meet and I believe he should be in the sparring room right now. Shall we go there?"

"Yes, let's," she answered.

* * *

The sparring room was a simple one: there was a large, square-shaped dueling ring on an elevated platform that took up most of the space and then stone benches on three sides of the ring. On the fourth side was a small throne for the days when the King wanted to present for a duel or a challenge. Straight across from the main entrance on the opposite wall was an open doorway that led into the room next door which was the armory.

When Thorin and Lancaeriel arrived, they found a few pairs of younger-looking Dwarves in the ring practicing their combat skills with each other. Some were using battle axes, some wielded swords and the rest were using large hammers. Their battle cries and grunts as they charged at their partners or sidestepped an attack were loud and the sound of clashing metal bounced off the walls around them.

On the outside of the ring was a larger Dwarf leaning on a large battle axe that came up to his chest standing upright. He was tall, brawny and muscular, had a large, full black beard and his hair was different than most: his head was shaved except for one single section of black hair down the middle that stood long and tall on his head.

He stood there bellowing out orders and comments to some of the fighters, "Dogan, widen your stance, you'll have better balance when you swing! Quicker, Remlak, on parrying Gilnir's advances! You make a move like that in battle, Andref, and you'll find your head on a pike!"

A few minutes later, his head turned and he noticed the Dwarf Prince had entered the room and was waiting patiently. He turned back towards the ring. "All right, lads, I think we've done enough training for today. Return your weapons to the armory and then you are dismissed."

The younger Dwarves all obeyed their teacher: they walked out the ring, returned their weapons to the armory and then filed out of the room, bowing their heads respectively to Thorin and Lancaeriel as they went.

"There was no need to conclude your session on our account," said Thorin once they were all out of the room.

"Ah, no worries, we were just about finished anyway," his friend said after closing the doors. Then he let out a hearty laugh as he and the Prince gladly embraced each other.

"There's someone here I'd like you to meet, my friend," said Thorin, gesturing to the now smiling Princess.

"By my beard…!" The larger Dwarf's eyes were growing wider with awe at the sight of her. Then he bowed low respectively and introduced himself, "Dwalin, son of Fundin, at your service, my lady."

"Princess Lancaeriel of Mirkwood, at yours, my good sir," the Princess replied, curtsying to him.

"Dwalin is my best friend and closest companion. He is also Balin's younger brother," said Thorin.

Dwalin rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you, Thorin, to stop telling others that I'm related to that old sod?" he cried out sarcastically, giving Thorin a light and playful punch in the shoulder.

Rubbing his arm, Thorin chuckled and replied, "I simply ignore that request, Dwalin, because I know you love your brother and would have no idea where you'd be without him."

"Well, I suppose that's true!" said Dwalin before chuckling himself. Then he looked down at Lancaeriel and gave her a bright, cheery smile that amazingly could be seen underneath his fluffy beard.

"Now what is a lovely lass like you doing with a sorry lad like him?" he asked her, pointing to Thorin next to him with his thumb.

She couldn't help but giggle as Thorin took his chance to punch Dwalin in the arm and cried, "Who are you calling a 'sorry lad'?"

After ceasing her laughing, Lancaeriel answered, "Thorin found me wandering about outside of the mountain and he has been kind enough to show me around and introduce me to some people. I met your brother not too long ago."

"I'm sure Balin really liked you."

"It seemed like it. He was very kind."

"Are you enjoying your tour?"

"I am; very much, indeed! Just out of curiosity, what were you doing with those younger Dwarves when we arrived?"

"Combat training. The lads were just sparring and practicing what I've taught them when you two showed up."

"Do you mind if I try my hand at it with you, Master Dwarf?"

Both Dwalin and Thorin looked at her quizzically, taken aback at her request.

"You want to spar with Dwalin?" Thorin asked, making sure he heard her right.

Lancaeriel nodded innocently. "I assure you, I know how to fight in combat. There's nothing to be worried about," she said to calm the two concerned-looking Dwarves that were staring at her. "Just one short sparring session, that's all I ask."

"Well…I suppose," Dwalin answered nervously. "Let's get in the ring, then. Thorin, could you fetch the lady a weapon?"

He nodded and then asked the Princess, "Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

"I would prefer a sword, if you don't mind."

Thorin went into the armory and came out about a minute later with a dark, lightweight Dwarven sword that he thought would suit her.

After he handed it to her, Lancaeriel fumbled around with it a little to get a feel for it. "It's different than what I am used to, but it will suffice," she stated with a smile.

"Good," said Dwalin. "And don't you worry, I'll go easy on you."

"No!" the Princess cried out abruptly, her face turning serious. Both Dwalin and Thorin's heads jerked back, startled. She continued in a stern voice, with even a small hint of sass, "There shall be none of that, Master Dwalin. I may be a lady, but in combat, I am your equal, even in training, and I insist to be treated as such." Then she smirked deviously at the larger Dwarf, feeling rather witty.

Bemused, Dwalin lifted his hands into the air and said in reply, "Very well, if you insist, Princess."

"You may dispense with the pleasantries, my good Dwarf," Lancaeriel said politely. "Thorin and Balin have done so, so you can, as well." With that being said, she gave a light flip of her hair with her head as she turned around and walked up towards the ring.

Dwalin glanced back at Thorin, who just shrugged his shoulders, both of them a bit perplexed at her clever behavior. Then he picked up his battle axe, along with an identical one that was set against the wall, and followed after her into the ring while the Prince sat on one of the benches on the side.

Thorin, honestly, was a little nervous as he sat down. While he didn't know of Lancaeriel's combat skills, he knew about Dwalin's; he was an intimidating, rough and tough fighter and, now that his friend wasn't going to go easy on her, the Prince was worried about what would happen if Dwalin showed no restraint against her.

"Ladies first," said Dwalin as they took their stances and readied their weapons.

Without hesitating, Lancaeriel lunged forward and thrust her sword towards Dwalin's abdomen. Just as quickly, Dwalin swerved his axe in front of him and parried her move. His arm followed over his head after his block and took a swing down at her and she swung downward, diverting the path of his weapon. But he was quick and raised both axes for a strike. When he thrust his axes down, she jumped backwards and did a backhand spring away from him, landing perfectly on her feet with her sword still in hand.

With a growl, Dwalin swung both of his axes across his chest towards her head, but Lancaeriel swiftly ducked down as they whooshed over her. She took that chance to diagonally swing her weapon upwards at him, but he was quick to sidestep away and shuffle around her. She spun around to face him so he wouldn't get any surprise attacks on her. When he took yet another swing at her, she jumped up into the air and did a flawless front flip, soaring straight over his head and landing behind him.

"You're good, lass," Dwalin pointed out, getting slightly short of breath.

"As are you," Lancaeriel replied, twirling her sword.

Then, in one fluid motion, she leapt up into the air again, spinning her entire body around speedily, and raised her weapon above her head as she descended down to strike a fatal blow.

But he was ready for her attack and raised his battle axes over his head in an "X" shape, parrying her blow and catching her blade in between the heads. With a mighty shove, he thrust his axes out and pushed her away. As she stumbled back, he got a little carried away and took the opportunity, while her front was exposed and defenseless, to butt her hard in the stomach with the head of his axe.

The breath was knocked right out of her as the head made contact with her abdomen and she dropped her sword, cried out in pain and doubled over, clutching her stomach. Then she fell to the floor, groaning and gasping for air.

"Lancaeriel!" Thorin cried out worriedly as he got up from the bench and rushed to the edge of the ring as he saw her double over to the ground. He knew this would happen: Dwalin would get too caught up in the fight and would hurt Lancaeriel in some way. He hoped she hadn't been seriously injured.

Dwalin realized immediately what he had done as the Elf Princess collapsed and instantly regretted it. He dropped his axes and knelt by her side.

"Lancaeriel, are you all right?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

Just then, all of a sudden, Lancaeriel quickly rolled away from him and grasped her sword off of the ground and jumped back up to her feet. Clearly, she wasn't seriously hurt, if she was even hurt at all. Then, before Dwalin could react, she landed a rough kick into his shoulder, knocked him flat on his back and made him groan loudly. She walked over, moved his axes away with her foot and then pointed the tip of her sword at his neck, a mischievous and triumphant smirk etched across her face as he gaped up at her with wide, stunned eyes.

Thorin, off to the side, was looking at her the same way. He had never seen such fluid, graceful style, not to mention the quick movement from the ground to her sword and back up in just a matter of seconds. He was beyond astonished.

"Not as helpless as I appear to be, am I?" she asked Dwalin cunningly.

"Indeed…although I never thought you were," he replied, still surprised and trying to catch his breath.

She chuckled.

"When you said you wanted a short sparring session, you weren't joking!" he added, a grin slowly inching across his face as he started to laugh himself.

"Do you yield, Master Dwalin?" she asked with pride.

He gave an exaggerated nod. "Yes, I yield to you, Princ—" The tip of her sword lifted and lightly tapped his chin. "Lancaeriel," he quickly corrected.

Once Lancaeriel moved her sword away, Thorin jumped up onto the platform and helped Dwalin back up to his feet.

"Well, this is a historic moment!" Thorin exclaimed. "For the first time in possibly your entire life, someone has bested you in combat, Dwalin."

"And a worthy opponent, at that," Dwalin added, reaching out to Lancaeriel to shake her hand.

Courteously, she took his hand and shook it. "You were not too bad yourself," she said, grinning.

He placed a large hand on her shoulder and said, "Well, Lancaeriel, thank you for the sparring. It was quite invigorating. I am afraid that I have some other business to attend to elsewhere now, but it was a pleasure to meet you!"

"The pleasure was all mine!"

Dwalin turned to Thorin and pointed a finger at him. "And you, my friend," he stated, "better take good care of the lass while you're spending time with her. I don't want to hear anything about her feeling unhappy here because of something _you_ did."

Thorin chuckled. "Not to worry, my friend. I intend to make sure her stay here is enjoyable." He turned and smiled kindly at Lancaeriel and she blushed.

_"No need to worry at all…!"_ Dwalin thought, grinning inwardly. "You two have a good time and I will see you both at the banquet tonight!" he called to them as he took his axes and made his way to the door, giving them a wave before walking out.

Lancaeriel turned to face Thorin, beaming. "You have wonderful friends, Thorin," she told him. "Balin and Dwalin both seem like good, respectable Dwarves. You should be honored to have them as your companions."

"I am; I am very honored. Balin is a wise councilor who gives me advice when I do or do not need it for my royal duties and Dwalin has practically become my protector; my right-hand man. I do not think I will ever find two greater friends whom I can trust wholeheartedly with my life."

"It sounds like they do most of your work for you."

Thorin looked taken aback. "I beg your pardon?"

Lancaeriel shrugged her shoulders. "Well, Balin helps with your royal duties, which means you surely cannot handle them yourself. As for Dwalin, he is your protector, which surely must mean you cannot defend yourself!" Then she smirked slyly at him.

The Dwarf Prince's mouth dropped open and he stared at her, dumbfounded. Not only was he surprised at her comment, but he couldn't help but think, _"Where is this good-humored wit coming from? Not too long ago, she was behaving shy around me!"_ While this still amazed him, he found her teasing—which, to him, seemed more like flirting—rather amusing.

He decided he would play along. He put a hand over his heart and gave an overdramatic gasp. "Ah, curses, you have seen through my ruse!" he cried out. "I am not the noble Prince I appear to be…I am a sham!"

"Now, the truth is revealed! I shall expose your deception to the kingdom!" With a devious cackle, she flipped around and began to run to the other side of the ring.

"Oh, no, you will _not_!"

Thorin rushed right after her, both of them laughing playfully. Lancaeriel, instead of jumping off the platform, jumped off to the side when Thorin tried to grab her. However, he was swift and caught her around the waist before she could get away.

"Thorin! Put me down!" Lancaeriel shouted in surprise as his arms tightened around her and he lifted her off her feet.

Then, just to tease her even more, he started spinning her in circles, laughing at her shouts as she twisted around and tried to free herself from his grasp. Though, as he began to speed up, his foot got caught on the hem of his fur jacket, tripping him, and he and the Princess went tumbling down to the ground.

He landed flat on his back and she landed right on top of him, her hands on his chest to brace her fall so as to not hurt him. The two of them started laughing so hard to the point where neither of them could breathe. While they were regaining their breath, they both just stared at each other, grinning widely.

Thorin couldn't deny that he didn't mind Lancaeriel's weight on top of him, even though he knew he shouldn't think such things. Even though he had discovered it when he picked her up, he realized just how light she was. Her hands were placed right on his chest and her touch was sending waves of warmth through his entire body. The way that she was gazing down at him with her bright hazel eyes made him feel like she was looking straight into his soul.

Then they realized the position they were in and they both snickered and blushed, feeling a tad bit embarrassed. However, despite how awkward the situation was, neither seemed to want to move away first.

"Well…aren't we in quite the predicament?" Lancaeriel stated.

Thorin chuckled, making his chest rumble beneath Lancaeriel's fingertips. "What is going on with you?" he asked curiously. "You were acting shy not even an hour ago and now you've suddenly become a playful tease!"

She smirked. "I am a mystery…!" she answered in a mischievous whisper, running her hands along his chest up to his shoulders and she felt him quiver a little at that.

_"A mystery, indeed!" _Thorin thought to himself.

Lancaeriel added, "Besides, Dwalin, to me, seemed like the kind of person who could handle that kind of teasing…and I thought that about you, too."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Was that just simple teasing or was it…something different?"

Her weight pressed down on him as she leaned closer to him, their faces just inches away. He could feel her breath hit his lips and neck and it was sending shivers down his spine.

She said to him softly, "That is for me to know…and for you to figure out." Then she surprised him yet again by tapping him on the nose before rolling off of him and helping him back up.

"Now…," she said once they both were back on their feet, "I believe we have a story to read together!"

Thorin dusted himself off, regained his thoughts, and then replied, "Indeed, we do…and I know a good place we can go for some privacy."

* * *

After retrieving the library book, Thorin took Lancaeriel up to one of the higher levels of Erebor; up to a balcony that overlooked the city of Dale below as well as the entire valley. A few feet away from the balcony was a chaise crafted from gold with soft black cushions and a few jewels inlaid in the backrest.

Once they both were seated, the two of them agreed that, when reading _The Tale of Beren and Lúthien_, they would each read a page of the story and would alternate each time.

They had been reading for a little while when it came back to Lancaeriel. She read out loud:

_"…it is told in the Lay of Leithian that Beren came stumbling into Doriath grey and bowed as with many years of woe, so great had been the torment of the road. But wandering in the summer in the woods of Neldoreth he came upon Lúthien, daughter of Thingol and Melian, at a time of evening under moonrise, as she danced upon the unfading grass in the glades Esgalduin."_

She smiled at Thorin as she handed him the book for his turn. Then he read:

_"Then all memory of his pain departed from him, and he fell into an enchantment; for Lúthien was the most beautiful of all the Children of Ilúvatar…."_

He then started to read the depiction of Lúthien's beauty and, as he did so, he couldn't help but think of Lancaeriel. He replaced some of the descriptive words used in the story and replaced them in the back of his mind to fit the description of the Princess, such as "grey eyes" with "hazel eyes" and "dark hair" with "red and gold hair". Everything else, he thought, worked perfectly to describe her.

He continued, _"…As the light upon the leaves of trees, as the voice of clear waters, as the stars above the mists of the world, such was her glory and her loveliness; and in her face was a shining light._

_"There came a time near dawn on the eve of spring, and Luthien danced upon a green hill; and suddenly she began to sing. Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world…."_

Thorin stopped reading and was silent for a moment, remembering when earlier that day he had heard Lancaeriel singing and the feelings he had felt in hearing her. He was unable to find the right words to describe her lovely voice, but the passage he had just read, he realized, was perfect; it was exactly how he would've described what he heard. "Heart-piercing" was the more excellent choice of words, in his opinion, because that was precisely what her song and voice had done to him: pierced his heart.

"Thorin, are you all right?"

Her voice broke his daydreaming and he realized he had been so deep in thought. "Yes, yes, I'm all right," he quickly responded. "I was just thinking."

"What were you thinking about?"

Naturally, he didn't want to admit that he had been thinking about _her_, so the answer he gave was, "I was just thinking of how I've never done anything like this: reading with someone, especially a woman."

"Are you uncomfortable doing this?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, no! I am not uncomfortable at all. In fact, I rather like doing this. It's something new and I am enjoying the company I'm in."

"I am enjoying the company, as well, and I'm glad you think all of that. It's nice to try something new for a change."

"Exactly. I'm very glad you suggested this idea."

"As am I."

Thorin's mouth started to curve into a smile, but then it dropped and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked past her head with a curious look on his face.

Lancaeriel, wondering what was making him look like that, turned around to see what was behind her, but there was nothing there.

"What are you looking at?" she asked him.

"I thought I saw movement; a shadow…but I suppose I'm just seeing things."

She nodded, understanding.

"Shall we continue?"

"Yes, please!"

Lancaeriel shifted closer to Thorin so she was right up against his shoulder as he continued reading:

_"…and the song of Luthien released the bonds of winter, and the frozen waters spoke, and flowers sprang from the cold earth where her feet had passed…."_

While the story-reading went on for about the next half hour, the Dwarf Prince and the Elven Princess were both thinking sweet things about each other deep in their minds, both of their thoughts unbeknownst to the other.

.

**Hope you liked this chapter! :) Don't forget to leave a review or send me a PM!**

**Now to "cite my sources" like you do for a paper or essay (blech!) I know I don't need to, but it's just in case anyone wants to know:**

**All of the information about Durin and the Kings Under the Mountain are from the Lord of the Rings Wiki, which is super awesome! I'd list all the pages I used, but there were a few, so I'll spare you all of that. If anyone wants to know what pages I used, just let me know and I'll tell you! **

**Also a few details about Durin was from a note called "A story about Durin" on the "Oin, son of Groin" Facebook page!**

**And then, of course, everything about Beren and Lúthien is from "The Silmarillion" :)**

**Next chapter will be the royal banquet and you will find out something interesting about Lancaeriel...and I can guarantee that none of you will be able to guess what it is! xD **

**S****o be sure to stay tuned, my lovelies! ;D**


	5. The Royal Banquet

**Oh Mahal, this chapter certainly took FOR-EV-ER!**

**I have no idea why, it just kept giving me trouble; I kept getting stuck in places xP That and life's gotten a little busy at times, so that does factor in a little bit...**

**But, to make up for all the time I made you wait, here is a long chapter for you, my awesome readers! :) There's a lot going on in this one...and a couple tributes to LotR in here, as well ;)**

**Let the festivities begin! :D**

**.**

While Thorin and Lancaeriel were busy spending time together during the day, King Thror, Prince Thrain and King Thranduil spent their time overseeing the preparations for the banquet that was to take place that evening. There was much to do and the Dwarf King wanted to be sure that everything would be perfect for his honored guests.

Multiple shipments of food had been sent to them from Dale for the feast: a couple of wild boars for the Dwarves and a good portion of green foods and vegetables for the Elves, respectfully, as well as baskets of fruits and breads. The trade agreements between Erebor and Dale were practical and the King of the city, Girion, was gracious enough to contribute, along with his congratulations on the discovery of the Arkenstone. In thanks for his donation, the Lord of Dale was invited by the King to attend the banquet as well. The invitation was accepted and Girion promised to be in attendance.

"I hope you do not mind that the Lord of Dale will be present, as well, tonight," Thror had said to Thranduil, while in the kitchens inspecting the work, after hearing back from Girion. "I know the banquet is mainly to be held in your honor, but I felt that Girion should attend, also."

Thranduil shook his head and waved his hand. "Of course, that is quite understandable," he replied coolly. He passed by a female human worker who was helping with the salads for the Elves. He reached down, plucked a single leaf from the bowl and slipped it into his mouth.

After chewing it for a few seconds, he hummed, pleased, and said to the worker, "Excellent work with this, my dear. I look forward to partaking of the finished product."

"Thank you, your Highness," the woman replied.

"So, Thranduil, do you have any sons or daughters of your own or is it only your niece in your home?" asked Thrain.

"I have a son; Legolas," the Elvenking answered. "He is a few years older than my niece. He is a fine young Prince; a skilled archer and warrior and a good son. He is also very devoted to Lancaeriel. He is very watchful of her and they are close to each other, like a brother and sister."

"That is splendid, indeed," said Thror.

"He sends his best wishes to you in regards to your discovery. He had to remain in Mirkwood and govern the kingdom in my absence."

"Naturally."

"Lancaeriel seems like a very spirited young lady," Thrain commented politely.

Thranduil nodded. "She certainly is. She is very much like her mother, Aulë rest her soul."

Thror picked up an apple from a nearby basket and said while inspecting it, "I hear that she has been spending quite a bit of time with my grandson today."

The Elvenking subtly looked away, his fists clenching behind his back.

"It is good to know that she is making friends and they are getting along," Thror added.

Thranduil, while still keeping his eyes averted, answered flatly, "Indeed."

Both Thror and Thrain took no notice of the Elvenking's behavior.

While he was civil, at least, with Dwarves, he didn't full trust them, especially when it came to his niece. He was very protective of her and seeing the Dwarf Prince with her earlier that morning outside of the mountain disturbed him. There was no knowing what the Dwarf's intentions were regarding the Princess. To Thranduil, Dwarves were unpredictable, especially young ones like Thorin.

_"He may appear honorable, but who knows what sorts of thoughts that juvenile Prince has about my niece?"_ he snidely thought to himself.

Overall, the entire situation made him tense and uneasy, but then he remembered seeing Lancaeriel smiling as she walked back into the mountain with Thorin. She looked like she was enjoying herself; she looked happy.

_"Because she seems happy, I shall put my reservations to rest…for now."_

* * *

Within hours, everything for the banquet was ready and the guests were filing into the Great Hall of the Lonely Mountain.

Aside from the Elven caravan, there was also a number of Dwarves from the different councils and high-ranking occupations of Erebor in attendance as well as a small host of Men that accompanied the Lord of Dale to the feast. Everyone gathering inside was all dressed in the finest regal garb for such a momentous occasion; the entire Hall was filled with all sorts of different colors from the many gowns and robes and formal attire that all the guests were wearing.

Inside the Great Hall was a long golden table with dozens of chairs on both sides and then one at the very end where the Dwarf King would be seated. All of the prepared food was already laid out on the table as all the guests began to seat themselves down in their chairs, awaiting the arrival of the royal family and their honored guests.

Just a few minutes later they all heard one of the servants call out, "Presenting his Majesty, Thror, King Under the Mountain; his son, Prince Thrain, and grandson, Prince Thorin."

Out of respect, everyone rose from their chairs as King Thror, who was grinning merrily, entered the room with Thrain and Thorin right behind him, both of them mildly waving to their subjects and guests. Thror remained standing at his chair at the very end of the table while his son and grandson took two chairs on his left side with Thrain sitting the closest to him.

Then they heard, "Presenting the honored guests of the King: his Highness, Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood, and his niece, Princess Lancaeriel."

All heads looked to see the Elvenking and the Elf Princess entering the room with their guards a few steps behind them.

Thranduil was still dressed in the same attire he had been wearing during the day, but Lancaeriel had taken the time to change into a different gown. She was wearing a navy blue formal gown with long, flowing sleeves and a neckline and trim of glittering silver. It was very well-fitted, like the dress she had worn previously, that emphasized her curves nicely and subtly. Half of her hair had been pulled back and neatly braided and her head was adorned with an intricately woven Elven headdress with a dark blue sapphire in the center. To everyone in the room, she was a lovely sight to behold.

But to Thorin, she was _completely _beautiful! Once he saw her come in, his heart began to race madly and he felt his breath catching. He had thought she looked beautiful enough the first time he had laid eyes on her...he had never been so wrong! At that moment, she was absolutely breathtaking and his mouth curled upward into a pleased smile. She truly looked like a Princess, even more than she had earlier.

She went to sit in the chair across from Thorin, but Thranduil instead pulled out the one closest to the Dwarf King and gestured for her to sit down.

To avoid any potential embarrassment, Lancaeriel whispered to him in Elvish, _"Shouldn't you be the one to sit next to the King?"_

_"I think it would be best for __you__ to sit here,"_ he replied firmly in the same manner, motioning to chair again.

Lancaeriel rolled her eyes, knowing that he was serious for some reason. She was in no mood to argue, so she obeyed her uncle and took her seat in the open chair. Then Thranduil sat down in the seat next to her and his guards sat down in the seats on the other side of him.

Once she was seated, Lancaeriel turned and gave Thorin an apologetic look and he, in return, responded with an understanding nod.

It was then Thror took his golden goblet with wine and tapped it with a spoon, making a loud clinking noise to get everyone's attention. All heads turned his direction, waiting for him to speak.

"My distinguished friends and colleagues," he began with a loud, cheerful voice, "tonight we celebrate a momentous occasion: the finding of the Arkenstone as well as the safe arrival of the caravan of Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood, who has come to pay his respects in light of our discovery. This banquet has been arranged in his honor as well as Girion, the Lord of Dale, who's been kind enough to provide the food supplies needed for tonight as well as being a reliable ally. However, let me say this: let us not celebrate tonight over trivial things like the finding of a precious gem. No, no, let this be a celebration of alliances and fellowship between our three kindreds…for without friendship…we would all be nothing and lost. Let friendship be what we celebrate tonight for it is of far greater worth than all the jewels in the earth or even the Arkenstone."

"Hear, hear!" called Thrain in agreement, holding up his glass in the air.

"Hear, hear!" everyone else in the room echoed, following Thrain's example.

After everyone had taken a sip from their goblets in response to the toast, Thror clapped his hands together and announced, "Let the feast begin!"

* * *

Truthfully, Lancaeriel was glad when the actual feast was over. The entire time they were eating, Thranduil was constantly berating her about practically _everything_: her posture, the way she held her utensils, the way she ate her food, _what_ she ate specifically; she had started to taste some of the meat on the table and he had subtly scolded her for it, since Elves do not eat meat. She couldn't help that she was curious and wanted to try something new. Thranduil was always a bit protective of her, but could sometimes get a bit too carried away with it.

It was all completely humiliating. Her uncle was being so controlling of her in front of everyone; in front of the Dwarf King, his son and, most of all, in front of Prince Thorin. That was what embarrassed her most of all: that he was sitting diagonally across from her at the table and had to see and hear everything. She could sense him watching most of the time and it only made her feel worse. She hated that he had to see it all. Occasionally he would smile at her half encouragingly, half apologetically, as if to say, _"I'm sorry about your uncle, but don't worry, it'll be over soon."_ Lancaeriel was, at least, grateful for that.

After all of the guests were finished eating and the food and table was cleared away, everyone began to spread around the Great Hall, socializing with those around them. The hall grew loud with the sounds of mixed chatter.

Lancaeriel was relieved that Thranduil and his guards had joined Thror in walking about the room to greet and converse with all of the guests, leaving her alone and giving her a chance to sneak away and have a little fun. Mainly she just wanted to find Thorin and talk to him, since she never had a chance to during dinner. After the feast, he had briefly disappeared and now she was wandering around looking for him.

A few minutes later, she spotted Dwalin, which wasn't very hard considering his tall, interesting hairstyle, and decided she'd see if he knew where Thorin was.

She approached him. "Dwalin, have you seen Thorin? I'm trying to find him," she said.

He looked around, scanning the crowd. "Mmm…no, I can't see him. I haven't seen him since the feast ended," he answered. When he saw the Princess's look of slight disappointment, he said to her, "Don't worry, I'm sure he just left to take care of some quick things. He'll turn up soon."

Then they both heard someone call out his name and saw Balin a few feet away, gesturing towards him, saying, "Come on, they're about to begin!" Then he walked away.

Dwalin turned to Lancaeriel. "Sorry, lass, I've got to go. There's a contest about to start."

"What sort of contest?" she inquired.

"Drinking," Dwalin replied proudly. "To see who can drink the most ale before passing out."

For some strange reason, this seemed a bit exciting to the Princess. With an innocent smile on her face, she asked, "May I join you?"

Dwalin's expression changed to a look of concern and confusion. "Do you mean 'join me' as in you want to come with me and watch or you want to actually join in the game?" he asked questioningly.

Lancaeriel thought it over for a moment and then gave her answer: "I want to join in the game."

Now the burly Dwarf looked very concerned. "I…I don't know," he stammered. "I don't think it would be a good idea…." He looked down at her and saw a bit of an insistent gleam in her eyes. "Are you sure…?" he asked hesitantly.

She nodded. "Yes, I am sure. I've never done anything like it before, but I like to try new things."

They started to walk together as Dwalin said, "I have to warn you, though. The other Dwarves: they won't go easy on you."

"Good. I wouldn't want them to," Lancaeriel replied. "Besides, I think I can handle it."

_"I sure hope so, for your sake…," _Dwalin thought to himself, knowing how crazy drinking games among Dwarves could get.

They made their way to a smaller, separate room adjacent to the Great Hall where a decent-sized group of Dwarves, each with mugs in front of them, were all gathered around a table with two large kegs of ale on top of it. When they all saw Dwalin and Lancaeriel enter the room, they all eyed them curiously.

Balin, who was closest to the entrance, greeted the Elf Princess by asking, "Princess Lancaeriel, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Dwalin told me of your little competition and I wished to come and participate," she answered.

The other Dwarves started to laugh, which made her glance at them peculiarly.

A Dwarf with a bushy red beard and hair of the same color sitting at the opposite end of the table cried out, "Begging your pardon, Princess, but these sorts of drinking contests we have aren't exactly for the faint of heart."

"Manners, Gloin…," Balin said to warn him.

"You think I can't hold my own?" Lancaeriel asked bravely. When they weren't sure how to answer, she smirked. "I take that as challenge!" she proclaimed as she approached the table with Dwalin just behind her.

Seeing that the Princess was serious about joining, Gloin shrugged his shoulders in defeat, slid a full mug across the table to her and asked her, "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Try me."

With that, Balin began to speak. "All right, gentlemen, and lady," he said, grinning down at Lancaeriel, "here are the rules, which are simple: drink as many full mugs of ale as you can before passing out. And remember: no pauses and no spills."

"And _no_ regurgitation," Gloin emphasized, flashing a wily grin to the Princess and holding his mug in the air.

She raised hers and gave him the same grin in return. Then she looked around to the other Dwarves at the table and declared, "Last one standing wins, gentlemen."

With lots of loud cheers from the other contenders, the competition began.

Lancaeriel looked down at the gold, foaming liquid in her mug, a little nervous about drinking it. Now she was beginning to wonder just what she got herself into, but she also knew she couldn't back out now even if she wanted to. With that in mind, she slowly lifted the mug up to her lips, shut her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the first swig of ale fall from the mug into her mouth and down her throat.

She felt herself about ready to gag once the first gulp went down. The taste of ale was very bitter and it burned her throat as she forced herself to swallow it. She had never tried ale before and was now unsure if she was going to like continuing to drink it.

Dwalin, who was sitting next to her, noticed the scrunched up, repulsed look on her face and he gave her a pat on the back.

"It's all right, lass," he said to her, "I know it tastes bad the first try, but trust me, after the first few swigs, the taste won't bother you as much." Then he downed the remaining ale in his mug and slid it down the table to Balin, who was in charge of filling them up again.

That made Lancaeriel feel only slightly less nervous. Deciding to trust in Dwalin's statement, she took a deep breath, tilted her head all the way back and chugged the remainder of her drink really fast.

She set the mug down and let a loud, high-pitched gasp. Her whole mouth and throat was so hot; she thought was going to start breathing fire at any moment.

"You see? There you go!" cried Dwalin. "That's one down."

Balin took her cup, quickly refilled it and then slid it back to her.

Immediately, she took the mug and repeated the same action she had a moment ago and downed the entire thing in a matter of seconds.

This time, she drank it a bit too fast and she felt a tiny bit dizzy. Then she could feel a small sweat forming on her brow while her mouth was still hot. At least, by now, the bitterness of the drink was starting to go away.

About six drinks later, Lancaeriel was going through each one almost without effort. Around a quarter of the Dwarves in the contest had already passed out. Dwalin and Gloin were among the rest that were still going.

"You sure catch on quickly, Princess," said Gloin, his words starting to slur. "But I still think you're going to lose."

"Famous last words," said the Princess with a grin as she started on her seventh mug.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the Great Hall, Thorin had returned and was now looking for Lancaeriel. He had hoped to talk to her during the feast, but wasn't able to, to his disappointment.

He had thought about asking Thror or Thranduil if they had seen her, but then decided against it. After watching how Thranduil was with Lancaeriel during dinner, he didn't want to provoke the Elvenking to fuss over his niece any more than he already had. Not for his sake, but for hers. Thorin had noticed how embarrassed she was by her uncle's nitpicking over everything she did and he felt sorry for her. Personally, the Prince thought the Elvenking's behavior was rather ridiculous, but was too hesitant to speak out in fear of offending his grandfather's guest.

He continued to search for the Princess and was unsuccessful for quite a while. However, as he passed by a closed room next to the Hall, he heard the loud, growly voice of a Dwarf cry out from inside excitedly, "It's the Dwarves that go swimming…with little hairy women!"

Thorin couldn't help but roll his eyes. He knew exactly what was going on the other room and didn't really want to get himself involved in that little competition, so he kept walking.

He heard some cheers come from inside, followed by Balin's voice saying, "And, after that interesting remark, I see Lancaeriel is now on her seventeenth!"

Thorin stopped dead in his tracks.

"Oh, no…," he groaned to himself, rolling his eyes again. "Did they seriously get _her_ involved, too…?"

Deciding to investigate, he carefully opened the door and stepped into the room. What he saw were mostly drunk, unconscious Dwarves spread out on the floor, which added up to over half of the group, and then the only ones left at the table were Gloin, Dwalin, Lancaeriel and a couple other Dwarves.

Just as he entered the room, there was the sound of a loud, throaty belch coming from someone's mouth. Then he heard Lancaeriel, whose back was facing him, cough and then exclaim, "Oh, goodness, excuse me!"

_"__Lancaeriel__ did that…?" _Thorin thought to himself, totally taken aback.

The Dwarves all laughed and cheered at her rather unsophisticated act, most of them starting to get really drunk and weren't thinking clearly.

Thorin stood silently by the door and watched as Lancaeriel finished her drink and set her mug back on the table. He was surprised at how well she was doing.

She lifted a hand and stared curiously at her fingers. "I feel something…," she muttered.

Balin's eyebrows rose at her and Thorin felt his own do the same.

"A slight tingle in my fingers…I think it's affecting me."

Gloin, after finishing yet another ale, lifted a wobbly finger and yelled, his voice now slurring a lot more, "What did I say? She can't hold her liquor…!" Suddenly, his voice trailed off, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out, flopping backwards out of his chair and landing hard on the floor.

Everyone started pointing and laughing at him after he landed, pleased that they were still in the game.

Thorin decided that now was a good time to get Lancaeriel out. He didn't want her to get too drunk. He approached her from behind and tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.

She turned around. "Thorin!" she cried out after downing another mug. "Where have you been? I was looking for you earlier."

"I will tell you later," he answered. "Right now, I think we should get you out of here. I don't think it'll be a good idea for you to get too drunk."

She just scoffed and waved him off. "Oh, Thorin, I feel just fine," she said, faintly slurred.

He could tell by her slurred speech that she was already slightly drunk and figured that was enough. "Yes, you may be fine, but I still think you've had enough ale for tonight," he said, gently taking her arm to lift her from the chair. He looked at the rest of the Dwarves. "Sorry, lads, but Lancaeriel forfeits the contest."

"All right," she said, surrendering. Then she shrugged. "Oh, well, I'm at least content that I beat Gloin. He was giving me a bad time before we started."

"That's Gloin for you," he said. "He can be quite competitive; a trait I pray his future children don't inherit!"

Lancaeriel laughed at that.

Thorin just chuckled and he led her out of the room.

"Do you feel all right?" he asked her once they were back in the Great Hall.

She nodded. "I'm all right. Elves can handle alcohol better than Dwarves. I'm really not that drunk."

"Good," was Thorin's simple reply.

Lancaeriel was just about to ask him where he had gone earlier when just then they heard trumpets sounding, some cheering followed by a band playing some merry music.

Thorin's eyes widened with gladness. "The dancing's about to begin!" he exclaimed.

The two of them watched as many couples, mostly Dwarves, all gathered together and started doing a dance to the upbeat music being played. Those who weren't dancing were standing off to the sides, clapping along to the rhythm.

Thorin turned to Lancaeriel, a pleasant smile spread across his face. "Would you like to dance, Princess?" he asked her.

Lancaeriel, on the other hand, didn't look quite as excited. She forced a grin and replied, "Thorin, I would love to…but I can't."

He looked quite confused. "Why not?"

She stammered, trying to think of what to say, "I—I—I just…I cannot dance."

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true! If you're just nervous, there's no need to be, it's all right."

"No, Thorin." She grabbed his arm and stared at him right in the eyes. "I really _can't_ dance…I do not know how."

He stared back at her, noticing the serious look she had on her face. She was not joking. She also looked a little embarrassed to be saying it.

"What…?" he said, astonished. "I thought all Elves knew how to dance?"

"Usually, yes…just not me. I've had instructors try to teach me, but I could never master it."

"You know the art of combat and can handle a sword effortlessly…but you can't master dancing?"

She nodded timidly. "It would seem so. I'm sorry, Thorin. You may still join in the dancing, if you want…it just won't be with me."

Thorin twisted his neck to look at the merriment behind him. A minute ago he had been excited about getting to dance with Lancaeriel, but after she refused, he now didn't want to join in. She was the only woman he wanted to dance with. That and he didn't want to leave her alone.

"You know, on second thought, I'm not much in the mood for dancing," he declared.

Lancaeriel looked at him, surprised.

"It's a bit hot in here, so I think I'm going to go out for some fresh air." He offered out his hand to her and flashed an inviting smile. "Would you care to join me?"

Flattered by his actions, Lancaeriel just couldn't help but smile back at him as she slipped her hand into his and answered, "I would be delighted to."

Pleased that she agreed, Thorin led Lancaeriel along the walls of the room, to avoid trying to cut through the crowds, to a large pair of stained glass doors. They went through the doors out onto a terrace outside of the Great Hall.

The cool night air hit the both of them hard and they exhaled loudly, glad to be out of the hot, stuffy room. The slight breeze they felt was refreshing. The moon in the sky was bright enough that it lit up the land below and they could see without any other source of light. It was quiet and peaceful. The only thing they could hear was the faint sound of the cheering and music from inside the room behind them.

Lancaeriel turned to Thorin as he shut the doors. "Thorin, you don't have to do this," she said.

He looked at her curiously. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about…," he said teasingly.

She just rolled her eyes and smirked. "Yes, you do. You don't have to give up dancing in the celebration just because _I'm_ not. I'm sure there are plenty of young, beautiful Dwarf ladies in there, vying for your attention and would love to have a dance with you."

He nodded. "That may be, but I'm sure I've danced with a good majority of those ladies at other celebrations before. They'll survive." Then he smiled once again.

There it was again: that wonderful smile of his that made Lancaeriel's heart flutter every time she saw it.

Her face started to lower, though, as she said to him, "I hope you don't judge me for what I told you…."

His eyebrows rose. "Judge you? What makes you believe I would do that?"

She shrugged and timidly answered, "I was ridiculed for it quite a few times by my peers in the past. I don't know what you yourself would think, since I only know a little about you. I guess I assumed that it was possible you would be the same way."

When she lowered her head, he placed a hand underneath her chin and raised her gaze back up to his. Then he stated softly, "Lancaeriel, I swear to you, I would not do such a thing. Those kinds of actions are beneath me. I would never judge you for something as petty as this. Everyone is different and that does not change the wonderful woman that you are."

The way that he was gazing at her; so fondly and sincerely as he said those words made a warm, pleasant sensation rise in Lancaeriel's chest as she thanked him. It touched her greatly to hear such sweet things from him that made her heart beat a little faster.

_"What is wrong with me?" _she wondered. _"I barely know him! Why do I keep having these feelings and thoughts about him?"_

To break away from those strange new thoughts, she moved towards the banister of the terrace and asked, "So where did you disappear to earlier?"

Thorin followed next to her and replied, "I went to check in on my younger brother and sister."

Her ears perked up. "You have a brother and sister?"

He nodded. "Frerin and Dis are their names. Frerin is still an adolescent and Dis is the youngest; still a child. They're both not quite old enough to attend adult banquets like this so they've had a governess watching them, although they were both asleep when I went to see them."

"Did your father ask you to check on them?"

"No, he didn't. I chose to look in on them myself."

That warmed Lancaeriel's heart. "Oh, that was so sweet of you to do!" she exclaimed. "You're such a good brother to check on them like that. You must love them very much."

Thorin smiled happily and nodded his head. "Yes, I do. They mean the world to me. Frerin and I are very close that we behave like we're twins some days and Dis…she's a little angel; the pride and joy of my life! Although, I've begun to discover lately that that little angel is starting to develop a rather fiery side…!"

She just giggled.

"Do you have any siblings? Or are you an only child?"

"I am an only child…but I am very close with my cousin, Legolas. He is practically my brother. He's always looking out for me. He's not as overprotective as my uncle is, but he's had his moments. He knows when to tone it down."

Thorin nodded diffidently. "I noticed that about your uncle during the feast." He gave Lancaeriel an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry for that, by the way. I could tell that was rather awkward for you."

She sighed. "It's all right. I've grown accustomed to it."

After that, the two of them simply stood by each other in silence, staring out at the city of Dale before them, lit up by the light of the moon.

The silence was soon ended when Lancaeriel turned to Thorin and said sweetly, "I want to thank you, Thorin."

He glanced at her, a slight inquisitive look in his face. "For what?" he asked.

She smiled. "For today," she replied. "Everything you showed me; everything we did was wonderful. I was hoping my first day in Erebor would be good, but I never imagined it would be half as delightful as it was! You have been so kind and welcoming to me since we first arrived and for that, I give you my sincere gratitude."

"You are most welcome, Lancaeriel," said Thorin kindly.

Almost without thinking, he shifted his hand across the railing and gently grasped her hand in his. When he did so, she looked down at their joined hands as if questioning his actions. But, just as he was considering letting go, her hand twisted around and she interlaced her slender fingers between his and clutched his hand firmly.

The two of them looked up and met each other's gaze, both of them shyly smiling, enjoying the feel of each other's hands clasped together. Once their moonlit eyes met, something began to change inside of them: they both started to have a sensation of feelings brew inside their hearts such as closeness, desire, happiness, warmth and so much more. Neither of them could explain why all these things were happening at once, and it was all so strange and new, yet they didn't want to fight it, despite the foreignness of it all, and they kept their gaze locked on each other.

Thorin decided to act on instinct and started to lean very slowly towards Lancaeriel, being so lost in her beautiful eyes. She even began to inch forward herself, drawing nearer to him and anticipating what was going to happen, her desire heightening along with his the closer they got.

"My lady, Lancaeriel!"

One of the Elven guards suddenly appearing through one of the doors and startling them was certainly _not_ what either of them was anticipating. After hearing him speak, Thorin and Lancaeriel quickly jerked apart and turned away from each other, their faces flushing.

The Princess cleared her throat loudly and said to the guard, "Yes, Rûdhon, what is it?"

"The Elvenking has been looking for you, my lady," he responded. "He is requesting to see you."

"I will be with him shortly."

The guard, Rûdhon, gave her a bow of his head and then retreated back into the Great Hall to convey her response to the Elvenking.

Now both Lancaeriel and Thorin were a bit too nervous to look at each other, considering what had almost happened before the guard arrived. After a brief moment of awkward silence, the Elven Princess slowly turned around and found the Dwarf Prince behind her with his head hung a little, blushing and looking up at her with shy, almost puppy-like eyes. She let out a slight giggle at his timorous look and he chuckled quietly, both of them still uncertain of what to do.

"Well, um…," Lancaeriel stuttered to break the silence, "I guess I will go see what my uncle wants."

Thorin just nodded.

She wrung her hands together timidly. "And, forgive me for this, but afterwards, I think I might retire for the night." She raised a hand to her head. "All of that ale is catching up to me and my head is starting to ache a little."

Understanding, he nodded again. "Of course," he said back. "You get some rest and I do hope your head will be better by morning."

Her mouth curved up and she lowered her gaze, trying to hide the fact that her face was still flushing. But then she looked back up at him and said politely, "Thank you again for everything you did for me today, Thorin. I enjoyed your company immensely."

"It was my pleasure," he replied.

She started to back towards the doors. "Good night, Thorin."

"Good night, Lancaeriel." He was nodding politely to her, but she could see a look of disappointment in his eyes at her leaving.

Then she thought of something that would make him feel better; something that would make _her_ feel better, as well. She walked up to him, placed a hand on his shoulder and kissed him sweetly on his cheek.

Thorin seemed a bit surprised when Lancaeriel pulled back and met his gaze again, but he looked less disappointed. In fact, there was a large, still slightly shy grin spread on his face. She smiled back at him, pleased that her gesture had worked. Without another word, she turned back and walked through the doors, grinning to herself.

After the Princess left, Thorin reached up and lightly touched the spot on his cheek where Lancaeriel's lips had just been, the warm feeling of her kiss still lingering on his skin. His heart had nearly leapt through his chest and now it was just beating fast.

He turned and grasped the railing of the terrace, his thoughts about Lancaeriel racing through his mind, thinking of everything he had learned about her during the day. She was sweet, witty, willing to learn and try new things, fun; he could've gone on and on.

"Oh, Mahal, help me...!" he sighed, grinning to himself.

However, there was one thing about her that he couldn't get off his mind and it suddenly led to him coming up with an idea.

He went back into the Great Hall to find Balin and Dwalin. Sure enough, they were right where he had left them. Balin was cleaning up some spilled ale on the table and Dwalin was helping him. He clearly had won the contest.

"Ah, Thorin!" Balin exclaimed upon seeing him.

"Where's the Princess?" asked Dwalin.

Thorin answered, "She's gone to speak to her uncle and then she's going to get some rest. All the ale she drank is starting to give her a headache."

"Ah…!" both Balin and Dwalin muttered in comprehension.

Thorin went up to the two of them, placed his hands on their shoulders and stated surely, "Listen, I want to do something for her tomorrow…and I'm going to need your help."

* * *

It didn't take long for Lancaeriel to find her uncle and when she did, he was _not_ in a very good mood. When she found him, he took her by the wrist and led her a little roughly out of the Great Hall and into an empty corridor.

"Uncle, what's wrong?" she asked him, taken aback at his unhappy behavior.

"What were you doing out there?" Thranduil immediately demanded. "Why weren't you in here dancing?"

Lancaeriel sighed, frustrated. "You know very well why I'm not."

"You could, at least, try."

"And embarrass myself; embarrass you in front of everyone? I'd rather not."

Thranduil glared suspiciously at her with his cold blue eyes. "Were you out there with that young Dwarf Prince?" he asked in a rigid voice.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "That young Dwarf Prince is named Thorin…," she snapped back, "…and what does it matter if I was?"

He straightened up and his gaze hardened as he declared, "I do not want you spending time with him."

Lancaeriel's eyes widened. "What? Why?" she said loudly.

Thranduil shook his head. "I do not trust him," he answered flatly. "He is young and we don't know his true intentions regarding you…and we both know the sort of thoughts young males of any race have towards women."

"You have not even spoken to him!" she stated, becoming angrier with her uncle. "How can you say something like that? He has been nothing but kind and gracious to me."

"That is his way of deceiving you…and then he will take advantage of you."

"Uncle Thranduil!" Lancaeriel cried shrilly. Now she was downright astonished at his behavior; at his resentment towards Thorin. "How dare you make such accusations about him? Don't you dare act like you know him or the type of person he is when you have not spent even a portion of a moment with him!" She calmed her tone a little before saying, "I can tell when the actions of others are true and genuine…and Thorin's actions have been nothing less than that!

Thranduil's piercing gaze continued to stare directly through her, displeased at her defending the Dwarf Prince. This was worse than he had anticipated.

"You speak as if you care for the Prince," he said in a snide, taunting manner while rolling his eyes.

Lancaeriel simply folded her arms across her chest, looked him straight in the eye and responded firmly, "Yes, Uncle, I do."

His expression grew even colder.

She continued in the same tone, "I do care about him because he cared enough about me, even when he didn't know me, to make sure I felt welcome here and that I would enjoy my time here."

Then she decided to turn the conversation on him. "And what of King Thror?" she asked. "He has been kind and welcoming to you, the same as how Thorin has been to me. Would you make the same accusations about Thror; that he is trying to take some sort of advantage of you?"

"That is not the same thing, Lancaeriel," Thranduil spat.

"It _is_ the same!" she yelled back, now seriously irritated with him. "Thror acts generously towards you and you take his generosity as a friendly gesture. Thorin acts generously towards _me_ and you take it as deception and that he has ill intentions, trying to take advantage of me!"

Thranduil clenched his jaw tightly, not liking that his niece was fighting back. He preferred it better when she was compliant with his wishes and commands, but now she was arguing against them and this displeased him greatly. However, he reluctantly held his tongue so as to not let loose any words he could possibly regret.

On the other hand, Lancaeriel still had things to say and was not going to hold her tongue.

"Tell me something, Uncle," she said, "what has Thorin done differently than his grandfather that would classify his actions as suspicious or abhorrent?"

The Elvenking just stared icily at her, giving her no answer.

The Princess looked to the floor and shook her head. "That's what I thought." Then she looked back up. "I am disappointed in you, Uncle. I would have expected such behavior from a juvenile."

He still kept silent.

Lancaeriel finally stepped closer to Thranduil and said to him in a calm but still serious voice, "I know how protective you are of me, but can we please not do this? I am not a child anymore and I make my own decisions. I am old enough and wise enough to discern good things from bad…and I can tell you now that, even though I may still barely know him, I have learned enough about Thorin to know that he is _not_ bad…no matter what you may believe. You don't know him at all, so don't _ever_ say such things about him again."

Thranduil simply exhaled and turned away, his expression unchanging.

Frustrated, Lancaeriel tossed her hands up in the air, finally finished with the conversation, if she could even call it that. With an annoyed sigh, she turned her back to her uncle and walked away, calling back to him as she left him alone in the hallway, "I'm going to retire for the night. Good night, Uncle Thranduil."

The Princess made her way back to the guest room she would be staying in. All of her belongings had been brought in earlier in the day, so she quickly put her headdress away in its box, changed out of her dress and into a simple nightgown. While she was starting to feel tired, she wandered out onto the small balcony outside her room.

She couldn't believe her uncle's words about Thorin. He actually believed that Thorin was doing everything to deceive her and then take advantage of her? That was completely absurd!

"I may not know everything about him, but I know for certain that he is _not_ that kind of man!" Lancaeriel stated out loud to herself. "He is honorable and kind and a gentleman and compassionate and…."

She trailed off as her face slid onto her propped up hand and her thoughts wandered back to Thorin. He truly was unlike anyone she'd ever met. She could still see his bright blue eyes in her mind; those eyes that seemed to see into her heart and soul. She could still feel the warmth of his hand in hers. His touch was so gentle and inviting that she saw no reason to resent it. And then when he was going in to kiss her, before they were so rudely interrupted, she had never felt so eager for anything in her life. She felt no reason to resist and she would have let him. She could just imagine how wonderful that would have felt, to feel his warm lips on hers for the first time….

Suddenly, she snapped out of her daydream, realizing just how far her thoughts were going. It was a bit startling just how deep her thoughts about Thorin were becoming in such a short time, but yet…somehow, she didn't mind it.

Lancaeriel looked up to the moon in the sky and sighed with a smile on her face, "Oh, Aulë, help me…!"

Chuckling to herself, she went back into her room and climbed into her soft bed. She laid her head down upon her pillow and closed her eyes, the Dwarf Prince's handsome face being the last image she saw in her mind before drifting off to sleep.

.

**Phew! Quite a ride there, huh? xD**

**Remember how I said you'd find out something interesting about Lancaeriel in this chapter?  
Yeah, that was the fact that she doesn't know how to dance xD I know I played it up a little before to make it sound like it was something bigger than that...I was just having fun with you all ;P**

**And also, a big thank you to ZabuzasGirl who helped with some of the ideas here, especially the drinking scene! :D**

**Hopefully the next chapter will come sooner than this one did! :P And that one will have some things to look forward to... ;)**

**Leave your thoughts/comments in a review or send 'em my way in a PM! Please and thank you! :D**


	6. Feel, Don't Think

**All right, I had SO much fun writing this chapter and I hope you all like it! :) It's another long one, but I think you'll find it worth your time ;)**

**There's a part where music is played and the song I chose is "A Postcard to Henry Purcell" from the soundtrack of "Pride and Prejudice". Here's a youtube link for you to listen to...just start when it says the music starts in the story, it won't be hard to miss!**

** watch?v=9ouMlUZt9DI**

**WARNING: This chapter contains content that may not be suitable for those who are prone to heart attacks due to having any thoughts or imaginings of young Prince Thorin... ;D You know who you are!**

**Enjoy! :D**

**.**

The next morning when Lancaeriel awoke, her headache was gone and she felt nice and refreshed from the previous night. She awoke to the bright morning light shining in through the balcony doors of her room. Heaving a sigh as she sat up, she picked up her hairbrush from her bedside table and started to run it through her hair, humming a little tune to herself.

She was thinking back to the night before…moreover, she was thinking back to Thorin. Spending the entire day before with him had been wonderful and she wondered what he had in store for her today. Unfortunately, she didn't know where to go looking for him, so she figured she would wander around until she found someone she knew. Preferably not her uncle…not after the argument they had.

Once she was finished with her hair, she threw on a black and mauve-colored gown and stepped out of her room. She was surprised to find that none of her uncle's guards were outside her doorway. Perhaps they were all with him, wherever he was. Satisfied with that, she left her room and started to wander the city.

She hadn't been wandering long when she found Balin walking around by himself, as well. The Princess called out to him cheerfully and caught his attention as she approached him.

"Good morning, Balin!" she said merrily.

"And good morning to you, Princess," Balin replied with a jolly grin. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

"Oh, quite better, thank you," she replied.

"Where are you off to?"

"I'm not really sure. I was hoping to find Thorin. Do you know where I might find him?"

Balin shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, he could be anywhere," he said. "I'm sure he's just tending to his royal duties right now."

"Of course," Lancaeriel replied.

Then Balin's eyebrows rose gladly. "I am on my way to the mines," he told her. "Would you like to accompany me perhaps?"

Her eyes widened. "I would love to!" she exclaimed, excited.

With that, the elder Dwarf and the Elf Princess made their way together to the mines of Erebor.

Lancaeriel was amazed by the mines. They were lit by many wires of lanterns that ran far deep into the mountain and below. She saw great seams of gold running like rivers through the stone walls as well as glittering spots of diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire. There were numerous Dwarven miners on pulley systems hanging from the walls that were digging diligently, hacking at the stone with their pick-axes. Each of them were wearing large helmets with candles attached to them to them for light. It was clear that they all were working hard at their jobs.

"This is incredible!" Lancaeriel gasped looking all around her. "So this is where the Arkenstone was discovered?" she asked Balin.

"Indeed," he answered. "The heart of the mountain was embedded deep within the rock walls."

"How intriguing!" said Lancaeriel, leaning forward a little to peer over the edge they were standing on to get a bit of a better look into the mines. Then she leaned back and said, "There is always a bit of work for us to do before we reach the heart of anything."

"Or any_one_…although sometimes it doesn't take _as_ much work," Balin added, raising his eyebrows at her. He had seen a certain light flicker in her eyes as she made that statement and knew right away what it implied.

She looked to him, a little confused. "I don't understand…."

He narrowed his eyes and grinned. "Oh, yes, you do. I am referring to you and Thorin!" When she started to blush and turn away, he continued, "I saw the look in your eyes when you mentioned 'the heart of anything'. I have seen that look many times in all my years and I would know it anywhere. I saw the way you gazed at Thorin from time to time yesterday and I can tell that you care for him."

Lancaeriel shyly looked back up at Balin. "Am I that obvious…?" she nervously asked.

He just chuckled. "Maybe just to a pair of old eyes that have seen many young people fall for each other," he answered to help reassure her nervousness. He laid a gentle hand on her upper arm. "I do not blame you, lass. He is a good lad with a good heart."

She nodded in agreement. Then she turned to him and asked, "Do you know…if he cares for _me_ the same way…?"

Balin knew very well that Thorin did care for her the same way, but he knew that she deserved to hear it from the Prince instead of him. So the answer he gave her was, "Whether I know that or not, it would not be my place to tell you. That would be between you and him, my dear."

Content with that answer, Lancaeriel bobbed her head in understanding. Then she asked Balin something that had been on her mind since the previous night: "But I just met Thorin yesterday…how is it that I could have feelings for him so fast?"

He gave a little bit of thought to her question, unsure really of how to answer. Then he responded, "I cannot say. Fate has strange, mysterious ways of working and bringing people together. And when it comes to deeper feelings for someone, they can come fast like firelight or slow and steady like a growing flower. For every person, it is different."

She let his words sink in. Was it possible that she was one whose feelings developed fast for someone? But why? It didn't make sense to her; she didn't quite understand. It didn't seem right that she should be developing any sort of feelings for Thorin so quickly. She had always seen and heard that it took time for such feelings to form, and yet that was not the case with her. There were times where she wasn't all that fond of being young and inexperienced concerning matters of the heart…and this was definitely one of those times.

Balin could see that she was thinking a lot about what he had said and that she still was a bit confused, which he could understand.

Reassuringly, he gave her a pat on her arm again. "Don't worry too much, my dear," he said. "This whole development is still new to you, I know, but you have plenty of time to figure everything out for yourself. As I said, it is understandable that you're finding these new feelings for Thorin. I know him very well and he is an honorable Dwarf."

She smiled. "Do you think it's possible that he could really have any sort of feelings for me?" she asked him out of curiosity.

_"Oh, what can I say that won't give away everything…?"_ Balin thought to himself.

After a few seconds, he answered, "I think it is very possible. From what I saw about you yesterday, you are a kind, spirited woman and you always have a smile on your face; those are some very attractive qualities, if you ask me. I could see Thorin certainly feeling the same towards you as you do him for he values those sorts of traits, as well." He gave her a sure pleasant grin to confirm that he really believed in his words.

Hearing this made Lancaeriel smile at him again. "That brings me much comfort," she said brightly. "Thank you, Balin. I'm glad I could speak to you about this and that you were willing to listen to me."

"You're very welcome, Lancaeriel. I will tell you now that, if you never need any advice about anything or just need someone to lend an ear, you can always come to me."

"You are too kind, thank you." She then leaned down and lightly planted a friendly, grateful kiss on the older Dwarf's cheek.

He started to lead her down a set of stairs. "Now, let's see what fine things the miners have all dug up today, shall we?" he invited.

"Sounds agreeable to me," she responded.

* * *

Lancaeriel spent the next couple of hours with Balin in the mines and she met a few of the miners, who were all generous and kind to show her some of their discoveries. Mostly they were just diamonds, rubies and other precious gems hewn from the rock, but they were all beautiful to look upon.

Then Balin had taken her to a part of the forge where she got to witness some of the Dwarf smiths at work fashioning objects of great beauty out of all the gold and jewels that were brought to them. Once more, she found herself amazed by the skills of the Dwarves, which truly were unequaled. The way they would handle the blacksmith hammers was almost effortless, showing the great strength they would put into their work. Deep down, Lancaeriel secretly hoped that maybe one day, during her stay, she could try her hand at the forge.

Soon, however, Balin had to take leave from her to attend to other business. After graciously thanking him for showing her the mines and the forges, Lancaeriel returned to her room. After she shut the door behind her, she sat herself down on the bed and tried to think of something to help occupy her time until she either heard from Thorin or decided to go looking for him again.

It didn't take her long to think of something. She reached into her pack and pulled out a blank sketchbook, an ink bottle and a quill, finding herself in the mood to draw something. Drawing was a talent she was getting better and better at. She enjoyed it very much. She wasn't as good at it as some, but her skill at it was increasing more and more.

"Now, what to draw…?" she thought out loud, tapping her chin with the tip of her feathered quill.

Almost right away, she got her answer.

The Elf Princess dipped her quill into the ink and began to lightly sketch in her book, deciding to draw a close-up portrait of a certain Prince.

But should she start with his head or his face? After giving a little thought to it, she made the choice to start with his face, since it was the most vivid thing she could see in the front of her mind. Her quill dragged across the parchment, carefully outlining his face. Then she started to sketch the details of his eyes, thinking they would be one of the easier things of his face to do.

His eyes…those deep azure eyes that seemed to see right through her every time she looked into them; that glowed brightly with compassion as they gazed upon her and made her breath catch within her. She had never seen such eyes before in her life. That was how she knew that his intentions towards her were good and just, despite what her uncle believed: she could see his gentleness and caring nature clearly in his eyes and they were not deceiving in any way. Even if she tried her absolute best, there was no way she could fully capture or portray just how open and emotional his eyes seemed to appear. To her, it was impossible. She could still see them perfectly in her mind as if he was standing in front of her.

Her lips began to curl upwards into a smile and she leaned back against the bed frame, lowering her sketchbook into her lap. There just was something about Thorin that made him different from any other male of any race she had ever met, but what was it? No Elf or man had ever captured her attention like this so fast. How was it that Thorin was able to do so in the span of over a day? She wasn't complaining about that in the least; she was simply surprised by it and was still trying to understand it all.

The one thing she _did_ understand was that she knew she was drawn to him in ways she had never been drawn to anyone before. Of course, she found him quite handsome, especially for a Dwarf, and that was what attracted her to him at the start…but once they officially met, she found it was his thoughtfulness and charm that attracted her even more and that made him more handsome in her eyes.

She heaved a pensive sigh and, before she even realized what was happening, she felt her eyelids slowly close and once again drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Hours later, Lancaeriel was awakened by the sound of light footsteps in her room and then a slight clinking noise. It took her a moment to register the fact that she had dozed off as she slowly turned her head to see where the noise was coming from. She found one of the Elven guards standing by her bedside table and he was carefully setting a silver tray of food down on it. He looked at her with wide eyes when he noticed she was awake.

"My lady," he said in slight alarm with a bow of his head. "I apologize; I did not mean to wake you."

"Oh, no need to apologize, Arandir. It's quite all right," she responded with a passive wave of her hand. She glanced down and was thankful to see that her sketchbook was closed so he couldn't see what she had started earlier.

Now not so worried about waking her, Arandir gestured to the tray and informed Lancaeriel, "The Elvenking was invited by the Dwarf King to dine with him tonight. King Thranduil came by not too long ago to see if you wished to join them but he found you resting and did not want to disturb you. He went to dine with King Thror and asked me to bring this here for you to eat when you awoke, courtesy of the Dwarf King and the cooks who prepared it."

Lancaeriel looked once again at the tray on her table. It was just a simple but plentiful meal: a bowl of steaming broth, an apple, a couple slices of bread and a goblet of wine.

"Thank you, Arandir," said the Princess, setting her sketchbook aside and moving to the edge of the bed. "I appreciate you bringing this to me. You may return to my uncle, now."

He bade her farewell and left her alone in her room.

It was as she glanced back at the food that Lancaeriel realized how hungry she was, apparently having slept through the entire afternoon and missing the noonday meal.

She picked up the wine goblet and took a quick drink, but as she lowered it from her lips, she noticed a small, folded sheet of paper lying where the cup once sat. Curiously, she picked up the paper, set the goblet down and then unfolded the parchment to see what was inside. It was a brief, neatly-written note that said:

_"I apologize for not getting to show you around and spend much time with you today…let me make it up to you. Meet me in the Great Hall tonight at nightfall."_

Lancaeriel chuckled and grinned as she saw that it was signed with a Dwarven rune that she recognized: the rune for the letters "TH".

"Thorin…," she deduced out loud, smiling and shaking her head.

Now she began to wonder…what was it Thorin was going to do with her or for her? Why at nightfall and in the Great Hall?

It excited her to think about it and now she wished that time would go by quickly so she could find out. Knowing it would do her no good to wish the time away, she decided to use up part of her time and actually eat the meal that had been brought to her, which was pleasant and satisfied her hunger.

She half expected Thranduil to come and see her later on in the evening, but he never did. Shortly, when she left her room at nightfall, she learned from Arandir that, a little while after dinner, the Elvenking had retired to his room for the evening to relax. He had been on his feet practically all day and was growing tired and gave his apologies for not going to see her.

Knowing that her uncle was going to be in his room for the rest of the night, Lancaeriel was even less nervous about going off to see Thorin. She thanked Arandir, told him that she was going for a walk and then left his company, making her way quickly to the Great Hall.

When she reached the hall, she stopped at the doors, took a deep, shaky breath and then slowly opened them and stepped inside.

The room was lit up just enough by the torches all around the room, but it was completely empty…save for the fact that Prince Thorin was standing right in the middle of it.

He smiled as he watched her come through the doors. "I'm glad you came," he said.

She started to walk towards him, but then stopped as she noticed Balin and Dwalin sitting by one of the opposite walls with violins sitting in their laps. They both waved to her.

Now a bit puzzled, Lancaeriel turned back to Thorin and asked, pointing over at the brothers, "Thorin, what's going on?"

He glanced at her for a moment and then replied, "There is something that's been on my mind since last night."

Her hands fidgeted nervously.

"I've been thinking a lot of how you told me you don't know how to dance."

This surprised her and her eyebrows rose at him. "You have…?" she asked, a little confused.

Grinning, he nodded.

"Why…?"

"I will tell you, but first, I want you to answer me a few questions and answer honestly."

She nodded.

"When your instructors would try to teach you the steps to a dance, _how_ exactly did they teach you? Were they calm and supportive or would they be strict and yell when you did something wrong?"

The Elven Princess thought back to the time when she took dance lessons in the past. "They weren't entirely strict," she answered, "but they would be a bit firm and raise their voice at me from time to time when I made a mistake."

"What would they do, exactly? Tell me."

She wondered why on earth he wanted to know all this, but, nevertheless, she responded to his question, "When I would make a mistake, they would just tell me to correct it and move on. Then they would constantly be telling me in a loud voice to focus while I would be practicing a step, which would only make me nervous."

Thorin gave a nod. "And therein lies the problem."

She stared at him questioningly.

He went on to say, "It was not your fault that you couldn't master dancing. It was the fault of your instructor! They did the worst possible things a teacher could do, which are distracting you or not giving you help and support when you make a mistake."

Taking a step closer to her, he continued, "That's the downside of instructors: they teach you to think too much about what you're doing. You don't learn to actually _feel_ anything at all."

"What do you mean?"

"My mother was the one who taught me how to dance…but she taught me differently than most instructors would. She taught me it's better to feel the steps you are taught; feel the music you dance to inside you instead of thinking about everything. That distracts you when you focus too much on the steps. When you actually feel the movements, it makes everything with you and your partner go much more smoothly."

"I'm not sure I understand…."

He held a hand out to her. "Come here, I will show you," he said politely.

"What?"

"This is why I asked you to come here tonight: I am going to give you a proper dance lesson," he said with an inviting smile.

Lancaeriel's eyes widened and her head jerked slightly back in surprise. "You are serious?" she asked.

After he nodded in response, she lifted a hand but then hesitantly pulled back, now feeling uneasy.

"There's no need to be scared," Thorin said to reassure her, reaching out to her again. "There's no one here to see you if you slip up."

That made her feel just a little better, so then she took his hand and he gently pulled her closer to him.

"Don't worry," he said to her softly, "you're with _me_…it's all going to be all right."

She gave him a quick smile.

"Now, do you know where to put your hands?" Thorin asked her, smirking, knowing she knew the answer but wanted to tease her a little.

Lancaeriel pursed her lips and replied in the same manner, "Of course, I do! _That_ much, I can do." She grasped his hand and then positioned her other hand on his shoulder while he slid his around her waist, making her flinch a little at his touch.

He stared at her with a determined look. "Now, I'm going to teach you one of the slower dances," he informed her, "and this is relatively simple. Are you ready?"

While deep down she felt like she wasn't, all she could respond with was a nod.

"Here's how we start: I am going to take a step forward with my left foot and you are going to step back with your right. Then step together."

He stepped forward and she carefully stepped back.

"Very good. Now, you sidestep to your left and I move to my right, and then bring your feet together."

They both sidestepped.

"Excellent. Then, this time, _you_ take a step forward with _your_ left foot and I, in turn, will step back with my right. Then bring them together."

She did as he said, making sure not to take too large of a step onto his foot.

"And for the last step, what do you think we do?"

The Princess was caught a bit off guard, but she answered with a bit uncertainty, "We sidestep like before?"

He nodded. "Correct! Which way?"

"Me, to my right and you, to your left."

"Well done."

With that, they sidestepped just as Lancaeriel said.

Thorin grinned. "And then it repeats and goes on and there you have it. You have just learned the entire dance."

She looked down at her feet and then back up to him. "Really? It's that simple?" she asked.

He answered, "Yes, yes it is. Now, we're going to go a little faster. Just follow me."

They started at the beginning of the dance: Thorin stepped forward and Lancaeriel stepped back and then they sidestepped. However, when Lancaeriel went to step forward, she used the wrong foot and accidentally stepped on Thorin's.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she cried out, feeling sheepish.

He didn't even flinch. He just shrugged it off and said, "It's all right, that happens."

They continued on to the sidestep and then, once again, Lancaeriel moved back with the wrong foot. When she realized Thorin was about to step on her, she tried to shuffle her feet, but instead caught one of them on the hem of her dress and started to fall backwards, letting out a startled cry.

Thorin stopped Lancaeriel's fall and caught her securely in his strong arms, pulling her up against him to steady her. Her hand on his shoulder clutched onto him while her other one grabbed around the back of his neck, trying to regain her balance.

"Are you all right?" Thorin asked.

"Yes, thank you," Lancaeriel replied breathily.

She raised her head and realized that Thorin's face was only inches away from hers. The heat in her face began to rise and she was almost certain that he could possibly feel her heart pounding in her chest against him. His arms were still around her waist, holding her gently. In fact, she swore she felt one of them slightly slide even further around her. Her hazel eyes found his blue ones and suddenly she was rendered speechless.

To her minor surprise, he chuckled softly and said with a witty tone, "Well, that was a close one!"

She forced out an edgy laugh as he loosened his hold on her and took a small step back, letting her get her balance back.

_"This is exactly why I didn't want to let him see me dance…incidents like __this__ happen!" _Lancaeriel complained in her mind as she straightened out her dress.

He was now looking at her inquisitively with a hand on his chin like he was thinking, which indeed he was. He was trying to come up with another way to help her get over her discomfort with dancing, since that's what he suspected was the cause for her errors.

Then he thought of something. It would most likely seem a bit unorthodox, but he thought it would be worth a try.

"I want you to try something," he told the Princess, resuming their dance position with his hand on her waist and holding her hand with his other one. He then looked back at her and told her, "Close your eyes."

"What?" she questioned, taken aback just a little.

His eyes stared into hers fixedly and he asked her, "Do you trust me?"

Somehow, she couldn't voice her obvious answer at first, but after a moment, she finally nodded and whispered, "Yes…I trust you, Thorin." Then, without having to be told a second time, she inhaled and closed her eyes.

He leaned down a little closer. "I want you to learn what I learned…," he said to her in a soft voice, "…which is to feel and not think of what you're doing too much. Follow my lead without opening your eyes. When you feel me lightly press against your hand: that will signal you to step back. When I pull or push on your waist: that will be to either sidestep or step forward. Do you think you can do that?"

"I think so," she answered.

"Very well, then…let's begin."

The arm he had around her waist pulled her closer and his other hand grasped hers tightly. Lancaeriel thought that she should be feeling a little uneasy about this sort of thing, but it was actually quite the opposite: she felt calm and safe with him there, his arm holding her close and steady.

She felt the pressure from his hand on her own and she stepped back with her right foot then back together. Then she stepped to the left. However, when she felt him press against her lower back, she took a small step forward, but he kept pulling her, so she ended up stumbling towards him and almost slammed right into him.

After she let out a frustrated groan, she heard him chuckle again and his hand rubbed up and down her back to encourage her, which sent tingling shivers through her spine.

"It's all right; you're off to a good start. If you feel me continue to lightly pull or push you in a certain direction, just continue to follow me. You can do this."

Still with her eyes closed, she responded with a nod.

"And remember: _feel_…don't think."

Thorin twisted around and nodded towards Balin and Dwalin, who, the entire time, had both been sitting on the side of the room, watching and waiting patiently. Once Thorin gave them the indication, they lifted their violins, positioned their bows and began to play a slower but quite rhythmic tune that echoed on the walls of the empty hall.

The sound of the music was wonderful to Lancaeriel's ears. She found it soothing and enjoyable. The melody was soft, flowing; it would sometimes slow and then speed up just a little while still keeping a steady, faintly upbeat rhythm.

She felt Thorin slowly start to move and she found herself following his lead, even though it took a second for her mind to catch up with her body. Backward, together. Sidestep, together. Forward, together. Sidestep, together. She could feel her feet moving in these steps as if she already knew them.

A moment later, Thorin then put a little stronger pressure on her lower back as well as gave a gentle pull on her other hand. She let herself be led from one spot to another, keeping in step with the violin music, and then he led her in the same manner again. It felt like she had spun around in a circle.

"Very good, Lancaeriel! You followed and let me lead you and you just moved around in a couple full circles without stumbling once!"

Her eyes shot open in shock and she looked around her. Sure enough, she noticed that they were in a different part of the room than where they had originally started and she gasped with happy surprise.

"I don't believe it!" she cried out through a light laugh.

Grinning at her, he asked, "Now, we're going to go just a little faster. Do you think you can do what I've taught you with your eyes open?"

Her response was a confident smile directed at him.

Satisfied, the Dwarf Prince and the Elven Princess resumed their dancing, both of them keeping their unwavering gaze on each other as Balin and Dwalin's violin music continued.

However, as they moved together, they forgot that the brothers were even there. To them, there was only each other; it was just the two of them in the room with the beautiful sound of the music. It was as if everything else was melting away around them.

Soon, Thorin decided to liven the dance a bit and twirled Lancaeriel around before pulling her into a spin, moving the both of them a good distance through the room, and she laughed delightfully. Before they even knew it, they were travelling all throughout the room effortlessly while spinning around and just having fun.

Not one thought of how to properly do the steps crossed Lancaeriel's mind. She was too lost in the music and in the moment with Thorin. There was the sudden rush of emotions she had before, but this time she didn't care. All those feelings and thoughts were what were making her feel happy the entire time.

All too soon, the music started to slow and came to an end, the final lengthened notes drawing out as long as possible. Immediately, Balin and Dwalin quietly slipped out through one of the side doors, both of them grinning at each other and knowing they were no longer needed and the other two were going to want some privacy.

Thorin and Lancaeriel had stopped dancing, but they never moved from the position they were in. They were breathing heavily from all their movements, but were nonetheless smiling at each other.

"I can't believe it…!" Lancaeriel breathed.

Thorin gave a pleasant hum and replied proudly, "Now you will never have to say you can't dance again."

She gasped again and said, "That was…amazing! _You _are amazing! You were able to teach me something that multiple experienced instructors never could! Thank you so much…!"

Seeing her so cheerful and excited made Thorin feel happy, especially at the fact that his idea of giving her a lesson had worked liked he hoped it would. He had spent most of the day thinking of what to do as well as planning it all with Balin and Dwalin. Thankfully, it had all paid off.

He let go of her hand, reached up to her cheek and tenderly stroked it, moving a stray lock of hair out of the way of her lovely eyes. He couldn't think of any words to say, so instead he simply smiled endearingly at her.

That made her blush and, in turn, she shyly grinned back and lowered her gaze.

There was a strong feeling that suddenly tugged inside the Prince's chest, evoking him to do what he had missed the chance to do the night before. Gazing down at her, even though her eyes were looking down, he found he could no longer resist the urge.

Gently, he lifted her head back up and moved his hand into her hair, pulled her against him and caught her by surprise by pressing his lips firmly against hers in a warm, strong kiss.

Impulsively, Lancaeriel froze in complete and utter shock. Despite the fact she had hoped he would kiss her, she didn't think he actually would! By Aulë, the feel of his lips on her own felt even better than she had imagined and her heart started to race madly.

However, the kiss was too brief and ended quickly when Thorin suddenly jerked away, his eyes wide with alarm. Lancaeriel stood there and stared at him in sheer astonishment, her mouth still slightly open.

"Oh, gods!" Thorin gasped loudly, realizing what he had just done. He buried his face in his hands and cried out, feeling ashamed, "Lancaeriel, I am so sorry! That was out of line…I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry…!"

Oddly, Lancaeriel found his embarrassment rather amusing and she just shook her head, grinning at him.

"Thorin…," she said as she took a step towards him and gently pulled his hands away from his face. He still kept his head lowered.

"Thorin, look at me."

Fearfully, Thorin looked up at her and was a bit surprised to see her smiling brightly at him.

"Don't be sorry…," she told him kindly, "…because _I _am not."

To prove it, she placed both her hands on either side of his face and touched her lips back to his ever so gently; something she had been thinking about since the banquet the previous night.

In glad response to Lancaeriel's sweet kiss, Thorin enveloped her in his arms as her hands grasped the back of his head and hair and held her close against him, kissing her more fervently than he had a short moment before. She quietly moaned into the kiss and he followed with a sigh in turn.

They both gave in to the strong urges they had been feeling since the moment they had almost kissed the night before, loving the feel of their bodies pressed against each other in a gentle yet firm way. Their lips moved together almost in unison, gentle and caressing in the most affectionate ways from the desire that sparked and grew within them. This overwhelming rush of emotions was something neither of them had ever felt before; the entire moment was something they'd only ever dreamed of.

Reluctantly, Thorin and Lancaeriel finally pulled apart, their arms still around each other, and gazed into each other's eyes, both of them breathing heavily with flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips.

Lancaeriel was the first to break the silence by starting to say, unable to find the right word to describe what had just happened, "That…that was…."

"Wonderful," Thorin finished for her, his face beaming.

She smiled back and leaned her forehead against his. "I was going to say 'perfect'," she whispered, reaching up and lightly running her fingertips along his cheek. Then she tenderly kissed him again and he put his hand in her neck as he kissed her back.

He leaned his head once again against hers when they parted, letting their racing hearts slow down a little.

"I'm glad we were not interrupted this time," he said with a grin.

"Indeed," she replied through an amused chuckle.

They were silent for a short time before Thorin asked breathily, "Is this really happening?"

Lancaeriel softly nuzzled his nose. "Yes, Thorin…I believe it is," she answered with a happy, bright sound in her voice.

He laughed cheerfully and lifted his head back to look at her beautiful face. Now, she was positively glowing and her eyes were sparkling with bliss. He really could not get enough of her eyes; those striking hazel eyes that were always bright with happiness no matter what. Now, they were gazing at him with fondness and adoration; a sight he believed he would only ever see in his daydreams.

She ran her hands down his chest and then wrapped her arms around his waist as she laid her head against his shoulder. Instinctively, he moved his hands up and encircled his arms around her shoulders, resting his cheek on the top of her head and holding her gently.

"Could you walk with me back to my room…please?" she asked him.

He grinned. "Gladly," he replied, placing a kiss in her hair.

She stepped back out of his arms, but still took hold of his hand as they left the Great Hall.

Soon, they reached Lancaeriel's room. Both she and Thorin felt a little saddened by the fact that they now had to part for the night. They stood silent by her door for a moment.

"Thank you so much for tonight, Thorin," Lancaeriel said, taking his hands in hers. "That was the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. It was all so wonderful."

"You are most welcome, Lancaeriel," Thorin replied, giving her hands a firm grasp.

He took a step closer, their bodies just barely touching, and slowly leaned toward her, but only partway. He wanted to kiss her again, but only if she wanted it. Warily, he glanced into her eyes. They were dilated and full of want, hoping he would continue. Their mouths both curled up into a smile as he closed the distance between them and their lips met once more.

When they pulled apart, Lancaeriel reluctantly took a couple steps back towards her door and grasped the handle, still keeping a hold on one of his hands with the other.

"Good night, my Prince," she said to him pleasantly.

"Sweet dreams, my Princess," he said back.

Finally, their hands let go and the Elf Princess stepped into her room, giving the Dwarf Prince one last bright smile before closing the door.

"My Princess…," Thorin muttered to himself as he walked away, loving the sound of those two words coming from his own mouth.

* * *

However, unknown to either the Elven Princess or the Dwarf Prince, there had been someone watching them during the dance lesson through a window on the outside terrace. Talathion was his name; another one of Thranduil's guards. He had been sent by the Elvenking to watch and follow Lancaeriel that evening after Arandir had informed him that she had gone out for a walk. Although, luckily for the Prince and the Princess, Talathion had only stayed until they stopped dancing and he saw the two Dwarf brothers who provided the music leave. They had taken one of the side doors that came around to the terrace and he didn't wish to be caught, so he quickly disappeared, making his way back to Thranduil's chambers to inform him of what he had observed.

He entered the room where he saw the other three Elven guards standing along the walls and the Elvenking was lounging casually on an armchair, a full glass of wine held aloft in his hand. The guard respectively bowed to his King after closing the door behind him.

"What news have you for me, Talathion?" Thranduil asked him in a flat tone.

"My lord, Thranduil, your suspicions were correct: the Princess met with the Dwarf Prince. They met secretly in the Great Hall."

Irritated, Thranduil rolled his eyes. "Foolish girl," he mumbled. "Not giving heed to my counsel; my warnings..."

"You are aware that they spent most of the day together yesterday?" Arandir inquired.

"Yes, I am very aware," Thranduil answered flatly, clearly uninterested in discussing that fact, while starting to take a sip of his drink.

The fourth guard named Draugolë stepped forward and spoke up, "I saw them do something very peculiar yesterday, my lord. They were up in one of the upper levels and they were reading a book from the library together. If I recall correctly, it was _'The Tale of Beren and Lúthien'_."

Thranduil stopped drinking and slowly lowered the goblet from his lips, his lips pursed in frustration upon hearing this.

Rûdhon then added, "And last night, when I summoned the Princess for you, I found her out on the terrace with the Dwarf Prince. They seemed to be standing rather close when I found them."

The Elvenking's expression was growing harder and angrier as he listened. His bitter blue eyes shot up towards Talathion. "What did _you_ see…?" he questioned.

Talathion hesitated, feeling a bit on edge from his King's growing anger. Nevertheless, he knew he had to answer. "The Dwarf Prince gave the Princess a dance lesson, hoping to help her overcome her discomfort with dancing…."

Thranduil's jaw clenched and his gaze stared off, looking at nothing in particular, and his grip on his goblet tightened, causing his hand to shake.

"…and it would appear that he succeeded."

Suddenly, the glass in the Elvenking's hand shattered into pieces, spilling his remaining wine all over the floor. Thranduil's eyes and expression were hard like stone and cold as ice. His breathing grew heavy and he was practically growling with every breath.

After a moment of uneasy silence, he informed the four guards that they were dismissed and ordered them to leave him. They obeyed and quickly left the room before he could unleash any of his anger upon them.

He gripped the arms of his chair hard, seething with anger and frustration at both Thorin for his interest in his niece and Lancaeriel for deliberately ignoring his warnings against spending time with the Prince. Hearing the things that they were doing together behind his back was beyond annoying to him and his anger only increased thinking about it.

Then he spoke out loud in a dark voice as if he was speaking to both Lancaeriel and Thorin, "You two might think you can go about and spend every waking moment together, but it will _not_ last…that, I can assure you.

"Disregard my counsel all you want, Lancaeriel, but do not think for a second that I will take kindly to you doing so. You are still under _my_ watch here and my judgments shall not be so easily swayed.

"And you had best watch yourself closely, young Dwarf…Lancaeriel has been hurt once before and I will not allow her to be hurt again! You do anything to hurt my niece in any way…and you will wish our paths had never crossed!"

.

**Oh, snap...someone's in trouble! xD**

**But hey...for those of you who've been wishing for Thorin/Lancaeriel romance...your wish has been granted! :D *squeal!* And believe me, I've been wishing for it myself! ;D**

**I love hearing from my readers and I'd really like to know what you thought of this chapter, so leave me a review, pretty please! :)**


	7. A New Dawn

**Not to worry, my dears, I ****_am_**** still alive! I apologize for the delay in updates. School is keeping me busy :P But here is a rather lovely chapter for you all! :) Enjoy!**

**WARNING: If, while reading this chapter, you start experiencing symptoms like dizziness, butterflies in your stomach, an overwhelming need to laugh and squeal like a little girl or possible heart failure, that is perfectly normal and there is no need to consult a doctor ;D **

**(Forgive my silliness! xD)**

**.**

_"Lancaeriel!"_

_The Elf Princess slowly turned around at the sound of a voice calling her name; a voice she recognized immediately. She looked to find herself standing in the middle of a large, green field. Her eyes lifted a little, found the source of the voice and felt her lips curve up into a smile._

_At the other end of the field, waving a hand in the air and smiling over at her, with his long black hair flowing beautifully in the wind along with his cloak, was Prince Thorin._

_"Thorin!" she called out merrily and she waved back at him, her heart leaping at the sight of him._

_He let out a glad laugh and held out his arms, inviting her to come to him._

_Seeing his gesture, she picked up the hem of her dress and happily started running, her red, gold-streaked hair flying behind her. She didn't know what it was Thorin wanted her for, but she didn't care. Seeing him made her heart flutter and she was more than glad to go to him and run into his open arms._

_The Dwarf Prince was only yards away and the Elf Princess could feel her heart racing as she drew nearer to him._

_Then, all of a sudden, a huge, long wall of fire erupted in the grass between them and Lancaeriel cried out in fright as she stumbled to a halt and shielded her face with her arms. A wave of heat emanated from the flames and forced her to take a few steps away to protect herself from getting burned. The skies grew dark above her and the wind starting blowing violently, lashing hard at her eyes._

_The wall stretched further into the sky, towering in the air above her. She couldn't see beyond the wall; she couldn't see Thorin and called out for him in alarm._

_Suddenly, the ground began to tremor beneath her as a deep voice spoke to her loudly on the wind in the Elven tongue._

_"__Noro! Drego, van aranel ben óre__!" ("__**Run! Flee, fair Princess without heart!"**__)_

_Frozen with fear, Lancaeriel stood in her place, searching the skies for the source of the voice. She didn't recognize it, but the sound of it sent icy shills through her whole body._

_"__Man ci__?" she asked. (__**"Who are you?"**__)_

_The voice spoke again, ignoring her question, but this time in the common tongue, "Soon, it will be what you will do best. It is inevitable. You will run from the people who need you the most; you will abandon them…!"_

_"No!" she cried. "__Ego__!" ("__**Go away!"**__) _

_Lancaeriel was growing even more scared. What was the voice talking about? Abandoning those who need her the most? What did that even mean?_

_The deep voice laughed spitefully, making the ground shake even more. Then, in a slow, smooth and malicious tone, he said to her tauntingly, "__Tolo anin naur__." (__**"Come near the fire."**__)_

_The Princess did not move. There was no way she was going closer to the fire. She had no desire to. That, and if she went any closer, she was certainly going to get burned._

_ The voice paused for a brief moment before crying out, "__Alae…lîn cund Naugol vuin__!" (__**"Behold…your beloved Dwarf Prince!"**__)_

_Immediately after that was said, a gap suddenly formed in the fiery wall and Lancaeriel gasped as she saw Thorin still standing on the other side, covering his face with his arms._

_"Thorin!" she shouted in fright._

_His arms lowered and he stared back at her with wide, terrified eyes._

_Before either of them could speak or move, an enormous shadow emerged from the ground in the gap and took to the air. It was unclear as to what shape the shadow was taking, but nonetheless, it was huge and scary-looking. There was a loud shriek and within a matter of seconds, the shadow descended down upon Thorin and overcame him. As he shouted in distress, the ground beneath him suddenly collapsed and he fell into the chasm that formed in its place._

_"No! Thorin!" Lancaeriel cried as he disappeared, stretching out her hand as if trying to reach out for him._

_There was another roar and the shadow re-appeared in the air, looking down at her with eyes set ablaze and deep into her soul. Then it flew towards her at great speed, its loud screech mixing with her scream of fear…._

* * *

With a sharp and frightened gasp, Lancaeriel jolted awake. She was panting heavily, the shock of the nightmare still weighing hard on her. Her hand flew to her chest, feeling her rapidly beating heart and trying to calm herself down.

That nightmare had seemed so real, more so than any other dream she had ever had in her life. It had terrified her to see the wall of fire and hear the cold, snakelike voice in the air. It had frightened her even more to see Thorin in danger and then disappear into a void. She remembered feeling her heart twist in fear as she watched him fall, assuming the worst and feeling awful for not being able to save him.

She leaned back against the bed frame and looked towards her window, letting in a little morning light, meaning that dawn was approaching. Now regaining her breath, the image of Thorin staring at her with horror surfaced in her mind.

But then, the more she thought about him, her thoughts drifted back to the night before and the wonderful evening she had shared with him. The dance lesson was absolutely amazing. She still couldn't believe he had done that for her. And then when he kissed her for the first time…by Aulë, she thought her heart was going to explode! He was so gentle; the feel of his lips on hers was incredible. When they kissed, she had felt things she had never before experienced: a warm sensation in her chest, a feeling of need to be close to him and to never break away. She didn't mind any of it at all, and yet none of it made sense to her. It surprised her to be discovering these feelings so soon and her head began to spin.

Finally, the Elf Princess decided she needed to fresh air to help clear her head. She dressed into a simple, light red Elven gown, brushed her hair a little, pulled a light shawl over her shoulders to help keep her warm in the chilly morning air and then left her room.

Just as expected, the slight chill of the approaching dawn swept over her as her door was opened and she pulled her wrap closer and tighter over her shoulders. As she looked out, she could see a slight source of light behind the trees. The sun was rising. She felt her heart begin to beat a little faster. Lancaeriel loved seeing the sunrise whenever she could. Back in Mirkwood, there were many a morning where she rise early and climb to the tops of the trees or go up in the towers of her uncle's palace and watch the sun rise over the Woodland Realm and the Misty Mountains. It was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen; all the radiant shades of pink, purple, blue and yellow that would slowly transform the sky as the sun rose up over the land.

"I wonder what the sunrise must look like here," Lancaeriel thought out loud. She knew it would happen soon.

And she knew the perfect place to see it.

With haste, Lancaeriel hurried off through the mountain and made her way up the many staircases up to the upper level terrace that Thorin had brought her to only a couple days before. Sure enough, up on that balcony, she had the perfect view of where the sun would soon show itself.

She approached the banister, clutching her shawl close to her chest and lightly laid a hand down on it, feeling the cool sensation of the marble send shivers through her fingers and down her arm that soon subsided. A slight breeze began to pick up that weaved through her long hair. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet aroma of the mountain along with the scent of the lands below being carried on the wind. The rush she felt was invigorating; so new and refreshing that there were no words she could find to accurately describe it. All she knew was that she had never felt anything of that likeness in her forest home of Mirkwood.

What was it about Erebor that made her feel so at peace? From the moment she had arrived, there had never been an inkling of nervousness or over-anxiousness that she normally would feel in travelling to new places. In coming to Erebor, she had felt…at ease and oddly calm, feeling that this place would be different than most in some way. There was nothing strange in waking up in a different place every morning this time and that pleased Lancaeriel greatly.

Her thoughts were then interrupted as a familiar deep voice spoke behind her, "Somehow I knew you would be here."

A rush of warmth spread through her cheeks as her mouth curved up into a cheerful smile, knowing very well who it was.

Without turning around, she replied, "What gave me away, I wonder?"

She heard his soft footsteps approaching and then she suddenly felt his hand press gently against the small of her back, sending electrifying jolts up her spine and she gasped quietly at the touch. Her head turned and she found herself locking gaze with Thorin beside her, who was smiling brightly, and she smiled back at him.

His hand trailed slowly over her back and up to her shoulder blades before he said, "I like to come up here often to watch the sunrise. I thought you would like to, as well, so I went by your room, but you were gone. Then something inside me figured that you already had that in mind and would come here."

Lancaeriel grinned. "Great minds certainly think alike," she stated gladly before returning her attention back to the distance.

Thorin's smile only grew bigger as he watched her gaze out at the horizon. The shine of her hazel eyes was brighter in the morning light; they were so full of awe, wonder and excitement. Her lips were parted slightly in anticipation, waiting for the sunrise.

A small sigh escaped him as he remembered that he had kissed those same lips just that last night and they had kissed him in return. Everything seemed so perfect then, like it was just the two of them and nothing else. And now, here he was with that same Elven woman on a balcony, patiently waiting for the dawn. He wondered if perhaps he was actually still asleep and this was all but a dream. But then he shifted his hand against her back up a little and felt the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress and knew right away that he truly wasn't dreaming; that this moment was real.

In response to Thorin's slight movement, Lancaeriel glanced at him, looking straight into his deep azure eyes that were looking back at her endearingly. The breeze had picked up again and was now softly blowing his long dark hair, which flowed flawlessly, back from his handsome face. Even the braid hanging from his chin was slightly swinging back and forth from the light wind.

She let out a small giggle just watching it and, turning slightly, she lifted a hand and grabbed it to stop its wavering. Thorin couldn't help but chuckle himself at her action as he looked down at her hand gently clutching his braided beard.

They glanced back at each other and realized their close proximity. Lancaeriel's hand released his braid and slowly slid over Thorin's face, his beard tickling her palm, and it stopped on his cheek. She paused for a moment and then continued her hand's movement up into his soft hair and around to the back of his neck, stepping closer until she was almost right against him. Thorin, in response, carefully wrapped his arms around her back and waist while her other hand came up to grasp his shoulder. Then, very gently, she pulled his head closer to hers until their lips connected in a tender way. She heard and felt Thorin sigh contentedly into the kiss and his hold on her waist grew stronger, holding her against him. In return, he kissed her just as sweetly. Lancaeriel felt his braided beard just barely brush against her jaw. She broke away briefly to lightly kiss the tip of his chin and his braid before capturing his searching lips once more, her hand tangling itself in his silky locks.

Thorin, being overcome with longing, deepened the kiss and Lancaeriel moaned quietly as her legs suddenly went numb and she melted against him, letting her shawl falling from her shoulders and onto the floor. He chuckled against her lips, the low rumble in his chest vibrating against her own, and she felt him grinning as his grip around her tightened to help keep her up.

After a short moment, they slowly pulled apart, both of them with their eyes still closed and reveling in the overwhelming sensations they were feeling. Thorin then touched his forehead to Lancaeriel's and asked with a small snicker in a deep whisper, "Am I making your legs go weak?"

She chuckled and replied, "Very much so, I'm afraid."

Their heads pulled back slightly as their eyes opened and found each other's gaze again. The Dwarf Prince and the Elf Princess just stayed like this for a moment, simply standing there with his arms around her waist and hers around his neck, and gazing at each other fondly.

Then Thorin caught something out of the corner of his eye. His eyes drifted over and a smile crossed his face. "It's starting," he said brightly.

Lancaeriel turned her head and gasped quietly.

The sun was beginning to peek over the distant valley and its rays were shining through a veil of psychedelic radiance blended in colors of pink, violet and gold. The light slowly flowed over the valley and the city of Dale in the distance like a wave of the sea. It was as if the heavens were opened and revealed through a single source of light.

As the sun inched further up, Lancaeriel experienced a feeling of peace and elation, thanking the Valar above for such a stunning creation for all to witness…and that she could see such a sight with someone like Thorin beside her.

She relaxed and placed her head on his shoulder, lowering her hands and wrapping them around his upper back. His hands came up to her shoulders and he held her gently against him, both of them just taking in the moment and watching the sunrise together.

Thorin looked down at her and noticed that the small golden streaks in her fiery red hair were glittering in the morning light. How he adored her hair! It was unlike any head of hair he had ever seen on a woman; beautiful and unique, much like she was. He nestled his nose and lips in her hair and kissed her head ever so gently.

Still gazing at the sunrise, Lancaeriel asked dreamily, "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful, Thorin?"

He couldn't help but grin to himself at that question. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and answered, "I have…and she is standing here with me at this very moment."

Lancaeriel's heart fluttered at his words and a smile inched up on her face. No one had ever said such an endearment like that to her before. She lifted her head to look at him and respond, but he took advantage of that by putting his hand in her neck and kissing her reverently. Her whole body tingled at the tenderness of his lips molded against hers, caressing them with great care and adoration. Her hands snaked their way up to his shoulders and held onto them to keep herself steady and from going weak again.

She broke the kiss and smiled at him. "You are so charming and sweet," she stated. She playfully kissed his nose and they both snickered.

Glancing back at the sun, which had now risen a little higher over the valley, Lancaeriel declared, "What a perfect way to begin the day."

"A perfect way, indeed," Thorin replied.

When he smiled at her, Lancaeriel blushed and looked down at her hands. Then she said, a little hesitant, "Thorin…may I ask you something?"

"You may ask me anything," he answered.

"Even if it's a very obvious question?"

He nodded.

She took a deep breath and then asked very shyly, "Do you…care for me? As more than a friend…?"

He sighed through a smile and lifted a hand to her cheek. "Of course, I do. I _do_ care for you," he replied pleasantly. Then he chuckled. "Did you forget that I was the one that kissed you first last night?"

The Elf Princess smirked and blushed again, lowering her gaze.

"Do you care for _me_?" Thorin then asked her back.

She lifted her head and grinned. "Did _you_ forget that, after you pulled away and said you had gone too far, that I kissed you in return?"

He smiled, knowing he needed no other answer.

Lancaeriel lifted her hands from his shoulders and grasped his firmly. "I do care for you, and while it makes me happy knowing you feel the same…it also makes me a little confused."

Thorin tilted his head, puzzled. "How so?"

"I have always heard and been told that it takes a bit of time for feelings like this between a man and a woman to develop. There is already something growing strong between us, but yet I have only been here for three days, counting today. I always thought it took more time for situations like this and yet….." She trailed off and looked down again, uncertain of what else to say.

"Lancaeriel…," Thorin began softly, gently placing his hand underneath her chin and lifting her face to look at him, "…do you feel that you are not ready for something like this?"

"No, no, it's not that I am not ready," she replied. "It's just…do you think we may be going too fast?"

Thorin stayed quiet for a moment, an inkling of fear rising up within him at where this was going. Then he fixed his eyes on hers intently and asked, "Is there any part of you that feels that anything we have done since you arrived was wrong?"

Uncertain of how to answer, Lancaeriel just stared at him.

"This would only be too fast if any of it feels wrong to you in any way," he added.

She gave a little thought to it and realized within a minute that he was right. The corners of her lips twitched up a little as she responded, "No…none of this has felt wrong to me at all."

His grin widened. "Then there is your answer," he responded, tracing her cheek lightly.

"I guess Balin was right," she said.

"Balin?" he asked, confused.

"I spent some time with him in the mines yesterday. He told me he could tell that I had feelings for you. I brought this up to him, how I thought it would take more time and he told me it was different for everyone. He said 'when it comes to deeper feelings for someone, they can come fast like firelight or slow and steady like a growing flower.'"

Thorin snickered. "That does sound like Balin," he acknowledged.

The Elf woman smiled happily. "I would say, with us…it is the first choice."

The Dwarf Prince lifted their joined hands up and held them at chest level, looking down at them. "Our feelings for each other may be sudden," he said, looking up and gazing at her warmly, "but they are real…and we still have time to search and discover them and where they will go from here." He placed light, feathery kisses on the back of her hands. "It is the dawn of a new day…as well as a new dawn for us."

"A new dawn, indeed," she agreed before wrapping her arms around his neck and embracing him.

When Lancaeriel had said nothing with him felt wrong, she knew she meant it. No male of any race made her feel the way Thorin made her feel: happy, excited, protected and looked after, even wanted.

But then flashes of her nightmare returned; images of Thorin terrified and vanishing in a void and the wall of fire between them and she felt afraid, now dreading if the dream actually meant anything.

Thorin right away sensed something was wrong. He pulled back and looked at her with alarm. "What is it?" he asked.

"What?" Lancaeriel replied.

"You were trembling."

"Oh, it's nothing…."

"Lancaeriel…," Thorin said firmly as he lifted her head, knowing she wasn't telling the truth. "If there is one thing that I would ask of you, it would be for you to always be honest with me." He gazed at her earnestly, urging her to tell him what was wrong.

Knowing he deserved that much, she sighed in defeat. "I had a dream last night…," she told him, "…one that frightened me."

Now feeling more concerned, Thorin led Lancaeriel over to the chaise behind them and they sat down upon it. He took her hands in his and said softly, "Tell me."

She swallowed and took a deep breath before telling him her dream. "I was in a field…and I heard you call out for me. I saw you and went to go to you, but I was stopped when a massive wall of fire suddenly erupted from the ground between us. Then a deep, snakelike voice in the air spoke to me, saying 'Run! Flee, fair Princess without heart!' and then proceeded to say I would soon abandon those who need me most. I would not listen. The voice then told me to come near the fire and then a gap appeared in the wall, showing you on the other side. You looked over at me and you were so…horrified. I had never seen such fear before. Before I could do anything, a giant shadow sprung up from the flames and overcame you and, as it did, the ground beneath you collapsed and you fell into the void. Then the shadow returned for me, but I awoke before it could get to me. Oh, Thorin…it was awful! I have never in my life had nightmares like this before. I was so scared…I thought you were gone and there was nothing I could do. Above all…I don't know what any of it is supposed to mean!"

Her voice was shaking and she buried her face in her hands and started to cry softly, all of her building fright finally coming through.

Thorin, in his own mind, had felt a little uneasy himself about her dream and he could see it had truly scared her. Her fear had been evident in her eyes the entire time she had been telling him about it. Now, seeing her letting out her emotions, he was overcome with pity for her and all he wanted then was to absorb her fear and take it all away, if only he could.

He shifted closer to her, put one comforting arm around her shaking shoulders, cradled her head, which she let fall against his chest, with the other and held her close.

"It's all right, Lancaeriel. I'm here," he said in a soothing voice, pressing his cheek against her temple. "Do not let this dream trouble you. Night changes many thoughts. There are shadows in the night that play with innocent minds, disturbing their once pleasant dreams and deceiving them. Their seeds of darkness and doubt are planted in your mind and will only grow if you let it. Hear me now when I say that your nightmare does not mean anything. It was a bad dream and nothing more. There is nothing to fear."

He gently lifted her head and cupped her face with his hands. Looking kindly into her wet, glistening eyes, he said to her, "I am here, Lancaeriel. There is nothing to be afraid of." Then he tilted her head forward a little and pressed his lips firmly on her brow to help ease her fear.

Lancaeriel sighed at his tender touch as he leaned his forehead against hers, grateful for his words of comfort and feeling her apprehension fading away by each second.

"Thank you, Thorin," she breathed out, feeling relieved. "I needed that comfort…that is, to say, I needed _your_ comfort. After what happened to you in my dream, I needed to know you were still here."

"I will always be here," he whispered, brushing away a stray tear on her cheek as she kissed him gratefully.

When they pulled apart, Thorin smiled, grasped her arms and pulled her up off the chaise with him. "Now, let us go," he said. "I have something fun in mind for us to do today."

Hearing this sparked Lancaeriel's interest. "Really? What is it?" she asked.

"I cannot tell you. It's a surprise." Then he winked good-naturedly at her.

She simply shrugged her shoulders in defeat and grinned.

"But wait!" he suddenly cried out. He walked over by the banister and picked up her shawl that she had forgotten had fallen to the floor earlier. The Dwarf Prince walked around behind the Elven Princess and carefully wrapped the shawl back over her shoulders.

"Why, thank you, Prince Thorin!" she exclaimed with enthusiasm. When she met his smiling gaze, she almost thought she wouldn't need the shawl because his smile sent a great wave of warmth coursing through her entire body.

"You're very welcome, Princess Lancaeriel!" he replied in the same manner.

She grinned and then simply said, "Lana."

He gave her a puzzled look. "What…?"

"Lana," she repeated. "It's the nickname my family calls me. I know my name is long, so you may call me 'Lana' for short."

"If that is what you wish," he replied graciously. He offered out a gentlemanly arm to her and said, "Shall we, Lana?"

"Indeed, we shall, Thorin," she replied with a bigger smile as she laced her arm through his.

Then together they both left the terrace, the rising dawn shining brightly still behind them.

.

**Hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! :D**

**Any ideas to what Thorin has planned? Or perhaps any thoughts to Lana's dream? **

**Please do review or send me a PM with any thoughts of comments! They always make my day! :D**


	8. A Day In Dale

**Ohhhhh gosh, I sincerely apologize for my long delay in updating...almost a month! :/ Seriously, life got crazy! In fact, it still is, really...had internet troubles, computer issues, slight writer's block, lots of schoolwork that took up my time...yeah, sounds fun, right? :P NOT! **

**That and also I was recently introduced to Windows Movie Maker and have found myself addicted to making fanvideos (Hobbit ones, of course!) xD A good friend of mine got me into it...you know who you are! ;D**

**So, for all that, please do forgive me! **

**Now, without further ado, here is your long awaited chapter! :D**

**.**

"Oh, my, the view up here is amazing! I can almost see the whole city!" Lancaeriel exclaimed from the top of a watchtower.

Thorin just chuckled at her.

The Dwarf Prince and Elf Princess were at the top of a watchtower in Dale, observing the town below and the valley beyond.

After the two of them had left the balcony that morning, they went to their rooms, gathered their cloaks and money purses and afterwards left Erebor, along with a Dwarven guard as an escort, to go to Dale. Many of the citizens were surprised to see the Dwarf Prince of Erebor walking about their streets, and with the visiting Elf Princess of Mirkwood, no less. He was kind to everyone, treating them as equals by grasping and shaking the hands of all who approached him, bowing respectfully to them and speaking to them not as a Prince but as a friend. Lana greatly admired that about Thorin.

They spent hours just browsing the different shops and booths, looking at jewelry, pottery, woodworks, trinkets and knickknacks. At one of the shops, Lana had spotted a hair clip made of gold studded with emeralds and diamonds. She thought it was beautiful and was tempted to purchase it, but then decided against it, saying she had enough hair clips already. However, unbeknownst to her, Thorin had lingered behind in the shop when she went to look at a booth outside and bought the clip for her. He had decided he would present it to her sometime later.

Later on, they walked by one of the watchtowers and she was curious as to how the view would be from the top. One of the guards was kind enough to oblige them and led them up the tower where they now stood, just the two of them, overlooking the city.

Thorin moved next to Lana, took one of her hands and brought it up to his lips, kissing it lightly. "Dale is a great city," he said. "It is peaceful and prosperous."

"It was a wonderful idea to come here," Lana said back. "Thank you!" She leaned over and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. Then she looked back out to the distance and noticed a mass of grey clouds in the sky. "It seems like we may be expecting some rain," she said.

"Indeed," said Thorin.

Lana's gaze drifted downwards and she suddenly pointed at the ground and exclaimed with a smile, "Look down there!"

Thorin peered over the edge and spotted what she was pointing at: a group of four smiling children, two boys and two girls, kicking a ball around and cheering in the street.

"Look at those children playing together," Lana continued, clutching onto his arm. "That is such a sweet sight."

But then Thorin chuckled and said in response, "And I know two of those children!"

When she gave him a curious look, he took her by the hand and led her back down the staircase of the watchtower to the outside. They started walking towards the children when one of them, the youngest-looking girl with black hair, missed the ball when it was kicked to her and it rolled past her in their direction. Thorin stopped it with his foot as it got to him.

Smirking down at the child, he said, "You're not supposed to miss, sweetheart."

"Thorin!" the little ebony-haired girl squealed, running towards him with her arms wide open and a happy smile etched on her face.

Chuckling merrily, Thorin got down on one knee and held his arms out to her, scooping the young girl off the ground as she threw her little arms around his neck and spun her around. Lana felt her lips curl up into a pleasant smile at such an adorable sight.

Just then, an older-looking Dwarf woman wearing a simple brown dress walked around the corner and spotted them. "Greetings, young Prince!" she cried with a wave. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Always good to see you, as well, Kima," Thorin replied. Then he looked back to the little girl. "And how's my little darling girl?" he asked, tapping the tip of her nose when she pulled back to look at him.

She pointed over to the oldest-looking boy. "He's been kicking the ball too hard and I keep missing it!" she complained.

The other boy, who appeared to be in his teens, had medium-length, dark brunette hair and stubble, just shrugged his shoulders when Thorin looked over at him. "It's not _my_ fault she's not quick enough to catch it," he responded.

Thorin was about to say something to him when he felt a slight tug on his hair and the little girl in his arms, smirking and looking over at Lana, asked him teasingly, "Who's _she_?"

Lana giggled at the child and covered her mouth with her hand.

In reply, Thorin turned a bit so the girl could get a good look at the Elf Princess and said, "This is Lana. She is an Elven Princess."

The little girl smiled brightly. "You're very pretty!" she said to Lana as Thorin lowered her back down to the ground.

The Elf Princess smiled back and said nicely, "Thank you, but I think _you_ are much prettier than me."

Grinning and blushing, the child snickered and covered her face with her hands.

Thorin chuckled then looked to Lana and said, "Lana, this is my little sister, Dis…," He motioned to the other boy and he stepped forward, "and this is my younger brother, Frerin."

Her eyebrows rose as she replied, "Oh, so these two are the brother and sister you told me about the other night! I should've known; I can see a resemblance between the three of you." She bowed her head respectively to them. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Frerin and Dis."

"Likewise," Frerin replied, graciously shaking her hand.

The other two children in the group stepped forward and Frerin gestured to them. "These are our good friends who live here in town. This is Eden," he said, motioning to the girl with long blonde hair, who looked about his age, "and this is Barrett," he added, gesturing to the little boy, who looked about Dis's age.

"It is an honor to meet you, Princess Lana," said Eden, curtsying.

"And this," said Thorin to Lana, bringing the Dwarf woman, who had just approached, forward, "is Kima; Dis and Frerin's governess."

Lana noticed the jeweled headdress the governess wore on her head and she said to her, "That is a very lovely headdress you have, Kima. They bring out your eyes very well."

"Why, thank you, my lady!" she replied thankfully.

It was then they all heard a very slight rumble of thunder in the air and the grey clouds were starting to hover over the city.

Kima looked up and then down to Frerin and Dis. "Oh, dear me," she said, "it seems there's a storm coming, children. We'd best be getting back home."

But then Eden stepped forward. "Actually," she said, "my mother said that Frerin and Dis were welcome to come for supper tonight." Then she turned to Thorin and Lancaeriel. "And the two of you could join us, as well, if you wish to," she added politely.

Dis started jumping up and down, tugging on Thorin's cloak and begging, "Oh, please, Thorin, please, can we go? Please? I don't want to go home yet. Please!"

He cast an inquisitive glance at Lana and she simply grinned and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say, _"Why not?"_

With that, Thorin gave a small snicker and replied to his puppy-eyed little sister, "Very well, Dis, we will go."

Both Dis and Barrett cheered and hugged each other and everyone around them couldn't help but laugh merrily at the sweet sight of two young playmate children embracing with excitement.

Thorin laid a hand on Kima's shoulder and said to her, "Lana and I can look after Frerin and Dis now, so you are relieved of your duties to them for today. You may still accompany us to supper, if you'd like."

Kima replied, nodding, "Thank you, Prince Thorin, but I do have some things I still must attend to back in Erebor."

"Very well," said the Prince. He called for the guard who had been with them all day and ordered him to escort the governess back to the mountain and to inform King Thror as well as his father and the Elvenking of their whereabouts. The guard obeyed the commands and, within minutes, he and Kima departed.

Once they left, Thorin, Lana and the younger children all started to make their way to Eden and Barrett's home. Eden and Frerin were walking in front, Dis and Barrett were in the middle and Thorin and Lana were in the back.

Lana, as they walked, called out to Eden and asked, "Are you sure your mother will not mind extra guests?"

Eden shook her head and answered, "Not at all! 'The more, the merrier', she would say. She loves cooking for other people and I'm sure she would be honored to have the eldest Dwarf Prince as well as an Elven Princess in her home."

"If that were me, I would be overwhelmed at that!" Lana responded lightheartedly and Eden chuckled in response.

The Princess then looked down and saw that Dis and Barrett were holding hands and skipping happily together, giggling. Her mouth instinctively turned upward into a smile, feeling her heart warming at seeing that.

She then felt Thorin's hand slip into her own and grasp it tightly. As they kept walking, she leaned into his shoulder and asked him in a hushed voice, "Do the two little ones fancy each other?"

Thorin just chuckled. "Oh, no, they are just friends," he answered, knowing why she was asking. "Dis told me so. I asked her the same question once and that is what she said. I then asked why she holds Barrett's hand and her words were, 'That's because he's my best friend and that's what best friends do!'"

"Ohh, what a sweet thing to say!" Lana exclaimed. Then her gaze lifted a little and watched Eden and Frerin up front. The two adolescents, who were about the same height, were talking casually, but she did not fail to notice that Frerin was walking a little close to Eden with his hands behind his back. "Now, what of those two? Is there anything between them?" she asked.

"Mmm…," Thorin hummed, "nothing official, yet, but I do believe there is something, potentially. Eden has liked Frerin for some time, as far as I could tell, and I know my brother is starting to warm up to her more now, but I think they're both too shy to admit anything."

Lana nodded in understanding. "Well, they're both still young. They have plenty of time."

"Indeed."

"Both your brother and sister seem wonderful. I look forward to getting to know them more."

"I am sure they will, too. I can tell they like you already. I know _I_ do." He squeezed her hand gently and gave her a cheeky grin.

She giggled happily and nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck, placing a firm kiss on the underside of his jaw as they continued to walk.

* * *

It didn't take long for the group to reach Eden and Barrett's house, which was just a nice little house made of brick and stone. They got there just in time as the rain had started to fall from the sky. They stepped inside and right away, Dis and Barrett ran off down a hallway to another room to play. Eden called out for her mother to let her know they were home.

"Frerin and Dis are here and they'll be staying for supper," she cried.

A higher-pitched feminine voice replied from the next room, "Good, I am happy to hear that!"

"We also have two other guests that are here and will be joining us."

"Oh? And who are these two other guests?"

"Well, come in here, Mother, and see for yourself."

A few seconds later, a taller, older woman with hair the same shade of blonde as Eden, wearing a teal and cream-colored dress stepped into the room. It was clear that she was Eden and Barrett's mother because there was quite a striking resemblance between them. Her eyes went wide with surprise as she noticed Prince Thorin in the room.

"Prince Thorin!" she cried out, her hands shooting up to her chest. "My goodness, I was not expecting you! What an honor, it is, to have you in our home." Then she gave him a respectful bow of the head.

He bowed his head in return to her and replied, "And what a lovely home you have, indeed, my lady."

"Please, call me Benita," she said with a pleasant smile. Then she looked curiously at Lana. "You are an Elf," she pointed out. "I assume you came with the Elvenking's caravan a few days ago."

Lana nodded. "Indeed. I am Lancaeriel, the Elvenking's niece."

"An honor to meet you, Princess," said Benita, bowing her head. "You and the Prince will be joining us for supper, yes?"

Lana and Thorin exchanged glances and then Thorin answered, "I suppose, if it is not too much trouble."

"Trouble? No!" Benita exclaimed. "The more, the merrier, I say!"

Lana's eyes drifted to Eden, who was smirking and giving her a playful look that said, _"I told you so!"_

Benita then started to wave her arms around as she declared to Thorin and Lana as well as Frerin and Eden, "Well, welcome to our home! You are welcome to stay until the rainstorm has passed, I would not recommend trying to travel in such weather conditions. Feel free to do whatever you would like while I prepare supper. We have quite a few books if you would like to read or there are some spare rooms down the hall and to your left if you would prefer to take a little rest."

"Would you care for some help in preparing supper?" Lana asked politely.

The woman shook her head with a smile. "I thank you for the offer, my lady, but no, I shall be quite all right. It is no trouble."

Lana, seeing no reason to try and change her mind, bowed her head courteously as Benita retreated back into the kitchen and Frerin and Eden went upstairs.

"I'm going to go check on Dis," Thorin told Lana, giving her shoulder a light pat. She nodded in response and watched him as he walked down the hallway, noticing just how his dark cloak flowed behind him and smiling to herself.

She too walked down the hall and decided to take a look at the spare rooms Benita had mentioned. She carefully opened the door to her right and looked inside. Against the far left wall was a large, neatly-made queen-sized bed with deep purple sheets. The faint light in the room was coming through a large window on the wall in front of it and she could see the rainfall outside. Across from the door on the opposite wall was a large vanity mirror and desk with a few perfume bottles, jewelry boxes, necklaces and rings on it.

After stepping into the room, she noticed a small shelf of books next to the door. She knelt down and examined the spines. They were all Westron copies of different Middle-Earth tales and histories. She felt a smile curl on her lips as she spotted a couple familiar ones.

Moments later, she stood back up and looked around. Curious, Lana walked over to the vanity and looked at some of the necklaces, which were all quite exquisite. There was a string of garnets, an emerald necklace with a large sapphire and then a silver chain with a single diamond.

She found the simplicity of the single diamond necklace fairly lovely and decided to try it on just to see how it would look. After fastening it around her neck, she let her hand lightly run over the chain down to the diamond. It looked rather nice, she thought.

"You look beautiful."

Lana jumped in surprise as she whipped around to see Thorin leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded across his broad chest, his cloak draped over them, and grinning pleasantly at her.

He had come by the room and spotted her standing at the vanity, noticing her fingering the necklace in the mirror.

Blushing and grinning, Lana dropped her hand down to her side and looked to the floor, feeling a tad embarrassed at being caught probing about.

Thorin did not fail to see that and couldn't help but chuckle at her shyness, thinking that the extra redness in her cheeks enhanced her beauty and he found it very amusing. He tossed his dark cloak onto the bed, moved over to her, took her hands in his and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"There is no need to be shy. It's only me," he said reassuringly.

Lana lifted her head, her hazel eyes meeting Thorin's blue ones. He couldn't find any words to say, so he did the only thing he could think of, which was pressing his lips firmly to hers.

When he pulled back, they both smiled coyly at each other. Then quickly, Lana removed the necklace and placed it back on the vanity.

"What would you like to do while we wait for supper?" Thorin asked Lana, rubbing her shoulders.

She looked over towards the bed. "Well, actually, I think I would just like to watch the rain through the window," she answered. "I know that sounds ridiculous, but I just thought it would be nice and relaxing…."

"No, I would like that," he replied, smiling.

With that, he led Lana over to the bed and sat down upon it, leaning up against the bed frame. Then he shifted over to give her room and held out an arm, inviting her to sit beside him. Gladly, she obliged. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and grasped one of her hands with his free one as she leaned her head back against his warm chest. He held her close, nuzzled his nose in her sweet-smelling hair for a moment and then rested his cheek on top of her head. Neither of them said a word and simply sat there together, watching the rain fall outside and listening to the faint sounds of every drop hitting the roof as well as each other's quiet breathing.

Many silent moments passed. As time went on, Thorin would stroke the back of Lana's hand softly with his thumb from time to time and gently kiss her hair. To the two young people, this was perfect: just the two of them cuddled up with each other and enjoying some peace and quiet together.

Finally, the silence was broken when Lana stated, "It seems like this storm will never cease."

"Indeed," Thorin said back. He gently grasped her shoulder. "Fret not, though, for every storm must eventually pass."

She snickered and tilted her head back to look at him with her bright eyes. "Do you mean that in the literal sense or metaphorical?" she asked lightheartedly. "Because it could work for both."

Thorin snickered as well. "Well, at first, I meant it in the literal sense," he said, "but I suppose it works metaphorically, as well."

She nuzzled the side of his neck with her nose and let out a loud sigh. "There is a small part of me deep down that secretly wishes this storm will never end," she admitted quietly.

He lightly ran a hand through her hair and asked curiously, "Why do you say that?"

Her eyes closed and Lana answered, "Because when this storm ends, eventually we will have to return to the mountain…and I don't want to go back…at least, not yet. I am perfectly happy where I am right now, here with you."

She felt him shift and nudge her slightly to get her to sit up. Willingly, she sat up and turned to meet his concerned gaze.

Placing his arm back around her shoulders, Thorin asked her, "Lancaeriel…are you unhappy in Erebor?"

Surprised, she immediately replied, "No! No, I am very happy in Erebor! I love it there."

"Then why do you not wish to go back yet?"

Lana remained silent for a short moment and then answered, "It's my uncle…we had a disagreement the other night and I have not spoken to him since. I know when we return to Erebor, he'll be waiting for me, and I really do not want to have to deal with him just yet."

Thorin nodded in comprehension. "May I ask what the disagreement was about?"

Lana hesitated. Of course, he would ask that! The disagreement had been about _him_ and she wondered if perhaps she should say something.

Then she answered him, "He was questioning why I've been spending so much time with you."

Thorin looked taken aback at this.

Quickly, she went on, "Thranduil is very protective of me in regards to males of any race spending time with me. It's nothing against you personally…it's just how he is." She felt uneasy, knowing the last statement wasn't entirely true.

"I noticed he is a bit protective of you," said Thorin. "He seemed that way at the banquet the other night."

Lana simply nodded her head in confirmation.

He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, looking at her with a face full of care and sincerity. She truly was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. There was a touch of sadness in her eyes and he understood why, after everything he had seen the other night. Her uncle was very protective and she felt confined; restricted. Yet that sadness lay behind a light of gladness and relief that shone in her hazel eyes when she looked at him. The way she gazed at him proved that he made her feel free; that he was the cause for that light in her eyes and he felt his heart lift in his chest.

Finding herself lost in his eyes, she then leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss upon his mouth, enjoying the feel and taste of his lips on hers and the warm feeling she experienced inside. She felt his hand slide up her arm and to her neck, lightly caressing it.

"Lana?" he said when she pulled away.

"Yes, Thorin?" she replied.

He grasped one of her hands with both of his and said, "As I told you this morning, I care for you…very much. I know all of this is still pretty new to us, but I have never been more certain of anything in my life. These last few days have been wonderful and I feel as if we are…connected; as if we were meant to meet."

She smiled endearingly at him upon hearing his words and touched her forehead to his, both of them closing their eyes.

"And there is something I'd like to ask you."

"What is it?"

He took a deep breath, mustering his courage and asked, still a little timid, "Lana…may I court you?"

There was a brief silence before her head leaned back and Thorin's eyes opened. In front of him, Lana's entire face was brighter and her smile was even bigger than it was before. He could feel his own smile growing, taking this as a good sign.

She grasped his hand and brought it up to her lips, kissing his warm skin firmly. Then she answered his question with, "Nothing would make me happier, Thorin."

All Thorin could do was grin happily and stare at her, unbelieving of the fact that she had accepted his offer, even though he practically knew she would.

She giggled at his reaction. "Well…?" she asked.

Still slightly dazed, he asked in reply, "Well, what?"

Lana gestured to her head and flashed Thorin an inviting grin. "Isn't it customary in Dwarven tradition to braid the hair of their intended after an offer of courtship?"

That broke him out of his trance and he stuttered in realization, "Oh, y—yes, yes, of course!"

Once again, Lana giggled and then shifted a little so Thorin could braid her hair, which he started to craft in her hair right away.

As his fingers wove in and out of her hair, Lana felt very torn about what was happening. Of course, she was overjoyed that Thorin had asked to court her and was now giving her a braid for it…but she also knew that Thranduil would not take so kindly to it. There was no way she could hide the braid from him, but something inside her told her she didn't want to hide it. She wanted to wear Thorin's braid proudly to show the world that she was his; she wanted to show her uncle that she didn't care what he thought. This was what she wanted. This was _her_ choice, not Thranduil's!

She heard the light _"click"_ of a clasp being fastened in her braid and then Thorin saying, "There!"

Anxious to see how it looked, Lancaeriel got up from the bed and moved in front of the vanity mirror. The braid ran down the right side of her head and it was absolutely beautiful. There was a silver clasp on the end that bore a symbol, which she assumed to be Thorin's emblem.

"It's perfect," she declared gladly as Thorin came up behind her and looked at her reflection. His arms slid slowly around her waist and he pressed his cheek against hers, staring at her adoringly in the mirror.

"It suits you," he said with a smile.

Lana twisted her neck and pecked his bearded cheek. "Now the world will know that I am yours…thank you," she whispered.

In reply, Thorin smiled again and nuzzled the tip of her nose with his own, making her laugh. She enjoyed how playful and tender he was with her. He was gentle, affectionate and doted highly upon her as if they had been together for a long time.

"I have an idea," she said.

"And what might that be?" he asked.

With a grin, Lana gently pulled Thorin's arms away and walked over to the bookshelf by the door. "I noticed this a few moments ago," she told him. She crouched down and removed a green leather book with gold writing and held it up to him. The title read _"The Tale of Beren and Lúthien"_.

Thorin couldn't help but chuckle at her discovery, knowing what she was suggesting and remembering that they hadn't read the story together for a while.

"Well, this is perfect!" he declared, taking the book and looking it over. Then he looked back to Lana, held the book out to the side to gesture to the bed and asked, "Shall we?"

With that, the two young people resumed their previous positions on top of the bed, Lana snuggled up against Thorin's chest, and opened the book. Luckily, Lana was the one who remembered where they had left off and they began to read again together. They read of Lúthien's rescue of Beren from Sauron and the burial of Felagund, son of Finrod Finarfin.

Eventually, it was Thorin's turn to read. He was coming near to the end of his page when he read, _"Then Beren took thought of his vow; and again his heart was resolved, when Lúthien was come again within the safety of her own land, to set forth once more. But she was not willing to be parted from him again, saying: 'You must choose, Beren, between these two: to relinquish your quest and your oath to seek a life wandering upon the face of the earth; or hold to your word and challenge the power of darkness upon its throne. But on either road I shall go with you, and our doom shall be alike.'"_

He paused for a moment, reflecting on such a beautiful passage. The bond of love between this mortal man and this she-Elf was exceptionally strong and, to him, it was fascinating. He never imagined that such a love could exist. This tale never ceased to amaze him.

As he paused, he heard the faint sound of Lancaeriel's soft breathing. He tilted his head forward a little and realized that she had fallen asleep. He sighed contently, understanding why. They had walked around Dale, going back and forth between shops and buildings, for hours. No doubt she had to be tired and, now that she was relaxed, her exhaustion was catching up to her. Thorin closed the book and set it next to him. Then he ever so lightly brushed aside a lock of her hair that had fallen over her eyes and his fingers wandered down to the soft skin of her cheek. She stirred a little but did not wake and he swore he saw the corners of her lips slightly twitch upward at his touch.

_"How fortunate am I to have met her?"_ the Dwarf Prince thought as he gazed down at the sleeping Elf Princess in his arms. She looked so lovely and peaceful when she slept and it made his heart feel warm inside. His fingers moved up to trace down the braid he had given her.

Like Lana, Thorin too was surprised at how quickly his feelings for her had developed and they were only growing stronger with every passing moment. He had been smitten since the first time he saw her, but he never expected any of the things that had taken place since then. He thought back to the story and remembered how Beren had fallen for Lúthien the moment he first heard her sing and laid eyes on her.

_"Could she be my Lúthien…?"_ he wondered about the Princess as he gently fingered the clasp with his emblem. _"And could I ever be her Beren…?"_

By that point in time, he was starting to feel a little tired himself so he reached over and pulled his cloak, which still sat on the bed, over to him. Then, carefully, Thorin draped it over both him and Lana. After pressing a tender, lingering kiss on her temple, Thorin held Lana gently against him, rested his head on top of hers and soon succumbed to a peaceful rest along with her.

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**Yay, lots of good things happening here! I hope that makes up for my almost-month-long delay xD I will try harder to update quicker next time...that is unless life decides to knock me around again :P**

**Oh and by the way, if you're wondering about Dis and Frerin, I'm going by the timeline in the books/LotR Wiki pages and, at this time, Frerin is 19 and Dis is 10.**

**Don't forget to leave a review or send me a PM! I love reading what you all have to say about my story, you guys are great! :D And thanks for sticking with me all this time!**


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